Froststar's Folly
by AbyssalNeko
Summary: Before Ashstar and Raindapple, and even before Stormstar, FrostClan flourished and thrived in the mountains despite all odds. The Clan faced many unseen and forgotten challenges, all of which were overcome by the original leaders. Find out how FrostClan came to be, nestled into the territory between GoldClan and FeatherClan!
1. Prologue

Starlight glittered in Bumbletail's fur as she padded forward, her paws sinking into the soft snow. Yellow light cut through the flurrying ice raining from the clouds; she could hear twolegs moving about in their nests, long after the rest of the living creatures around were asleep. How any cat could stand living so close, she didn't know.

She approached a much smaller den, propped up against the odd stone of a twoleg nest. It looked flimsy, dripping wet with melted snow. Grimacing as she poked her head inside, she waited for a moment to let her eyes adjust. Her expression softened almost immediately.  
>Two tiny kits lay curled to a much larger tabby's side, her fluffy tail holding them close in an attempt at keeping them warm. One was very still, and the other stared at her with wide blue eyes. "You look like Sterling," she whispered, motioning to the limp bundle next to her. Bumbletail blinked in confusion, then studied the little tom kit more closely, spotting a faint silhouette still sleeping by his body. Her heart immediately ached, and she stepped forward. The she-kit's eyes followed her, widening in awe when the starry cat touched her nose to her brother's forehead. By Bumbletail's prompting, Sterling stood, his own pelt looking like the night sky. He looked hesitant, then went forward to nuzzle into Bumbletail's fur, a low purr breaking from his throat. His sister let out a squeak of surprise, then glanced back at her mother's sleeping form, checking that the noise hadn't woken her.<br>Her eyes went wide and owl-like when she turned back, noticing that Bumbletail's eyes were fixed on her. She looked thoughtful, her tail curling slightly around Sterling.

"What is your name, little one?" she asked, her voice a low murmur. The fluffy little kit straightened. "Frost! My name is Frost!" she exclaimed, and Bumbletail purred. She padded forward, trailing her tail over Sterling's shoulders to soothe him when he started to cry. She crouched in front of Frost, her eyes burning with stars and questions. "It will be a long while yet before you will see your brother again, Frost," she said gently, and the little kit's eyes darted to the tiny tom, shivering in the mouth of their den. Her attention was drawn back to the older she-cat when she spoke again, her voice rumbling out in a warm purr.  
>"You will be a big, strong cat one day," she murmured, pressing her muzzle to the little white blaze above Frost's nose. The kit's eyes widened and then fell closed as pleasant warmth filled her, her paws aching with the feeling. She thought it similar to the feelings she barely remembered, of a time when her eyes couldn't open and she was mewling at her mother's belly.<br>Her eyes were shining when she looked up at Bumbletail next, stumbling a bit as the warmth receded. A gentle tongue swiped over her ear. "That was a gift," the she-cat purred. "One that I hope will serve you well. Sleep now- you must be strong for what is to come." Frost's eyes grew heavy with obedience, and she could vaguely hear Sterling ask the starry she-cat something as they padded out, his voice forlorn and sad.

She blinked awake to the sound of her mother's grieving wails and the brush of her brother's cold pelt.


	2. Allegiances (1)

**F. E. A. T. H. E. R. C. L. A. N.**

**Leader:**

Mottledstar – Old black-and-ginger spotted chimera tom with amber eyes.

**Deputy:**

Eagleclaw – Big brown-and-white tom with yellow eyes.

**Medicine cat:**

Mistberry – Frail gray she-cat with green eyes.

**Warriors:**

Briarfang – Big brown tabby she-cat with scars stretching across her face and flanks.  
>(apprentice: Molepaw)<p>

Snowtail – White tom with pale blue eyes.  
>(apprentice: Ruffledpaw)<p>

Gingerface – Beautiful ginger-and-white she-cat with green eyes.  
>(apprentice: Starlingpaw)<p>

Spottedheart – Spotted brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

Lightfoot – Pale ginger she-cat with yellow eyes.

Thrushwing – Dark brown tom with amber eyes.

**Apprentices:**

Molepaw – Brown tom with a white tail-tip and yellow eyes.

Ruffledpaw – Long-furred ginger tom with amber eyes.

Starlingpaw – Dark brown tabby she-cat with a cream-colored chest and paws. Amber eyes.

**Queens:**

Cherryfur – Tortoiseshell she-cat with blind green eyes.  
>Mudkit – Black-and-white tom.<br>Ivykit – Brown-and-white tabby she-kit.

**G. O. L. D. C. L. A. N.**

**Leader:**

Goldstar – Fluffy black she-cat with golden eyes.

**Deputy:**

Pineclaw – Brown tabby tom with very long claws.  
>(apprentice: Berrypaw)<p>

**Medicine cat:**

Rushfeather – Ginger tabby tom with golden eyes.

(apprentice: Tansypaw)

**Warriors:**

Hollybreeze – Ginger she-cat with green eyes.  
>(apprentice: Birdpaw)<p>

Oakwhisker – Brown tabby tom with yellow eyes.

Emberspots – Gray tom with darker gray flecks.

Ashclaw – Gray tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

Runningstep – Black tom with long legs and green eyes.  
>(apprentice: Fisherpaw)<p>

Daisyface – Fluffy ginger-and-white trans she-cat with green eyes.

Acornfur – Dark brown tom with gray eyes.

Coppertail – White trans she-cat with ginger ears and tail. Heterochromatic golden-blue eyes.

**Apprentices:**

Berrypaw – Cream-and-brown tom with gray-green eyes.

Fisherpaw – Very pale gray tom.

Tansypaw – Golden tabby she-cat with blue eyes.

Birdpaw – Blue-gray tabby tom with yellow eyes.

Dovepaw - Gray-and-white tabby she-cat with yellow eyes.

**C . A. T. S. O. U. T. S. I. D. E. C. L. A. N. S.**

Aspen – Short gray tabby trans tom with brown eyes.

Frost – Fluffy gray she-cat with a white blaze and forepaw and blue eyes.

Harriet – Long-furred brown tabby kittypet with blue eyes.

Mayfly – Brown-and-white tabby she-cat with blue eyes.

t with blue eyes.


	3. Chapter One

Molepaw grunted in annoyance when Starlingpaw prodded him awake, his eyes blurry with sleep. He fixed his fellow apprentice with a sour glare, and she laughed. "You know that Briarfang will claw your ears off if you're late," she reminded him, and he reluctantly sat up in his nest, jaws stretching wide in a yawn.  
>Ruffledpaw, next to him, stirred as well, his long ginger fur contrasting sharply with the mossy green of his next. Starlingpaw purred again at the sight of him waking, meowing something about Snowtail looking for him before slipping out of the den and into the warm newleaf sunlight. Her brother shook his fur out, mirroring Molepaw's yawn before following her.<p>

Stepping out after him, Molepaw blinked sharply, his eyes narrowed against the bright light. Immediately, the hulking form of Briarfang came into sight, stalking towards him with a switching tail and intent amber eyes. The apprentice had enough sense to be cowed, and only suffered a cuff to the ear when the she-cat finally reached his side.  
>"I told you to be waiting by the entrance at sunhigh!" she hissed, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. Molepaw looked sheepish. "Well it's not too late-"<br>"You were at the entrance to the apprentice den at sunhigh." She rolled her eyes. "I suppose it's not as bad as it could have been. Now come on, before Eagleclaw gets _my _ears. "

She led him over to where the deputy was standing with Thrushwing, who dipped his head nervously as the two approached. Molepaw purred slightly at his father's nervous antics, but quickly went silent when Briarfang glanced over at him. Eagleclaw looked up, eyes shining. "I want you to hit the northern side of the border," he meowed, and Briarfang nodded. "Catch anything you can on the way up there. Cherryfur's kits need the extra prey." Molepaw glanced over at the blind queen when he mentioned her, his eyes softening slightly when he noticed her sunning by the nursery entrance. Mudkit was scrambling up her flank, and he turned to bat at Ivykit when she tried to follow him. When the kitten noticed Molepaw staring, he bristled, his thin fur fluffing up almost comically. He yowled something at the bigger cat, but was promptly shushed by his mother, who had winced at the sudden loudness. Briarfang laughed, sounding almost forlorn- Molepaw remembered that she had lost her two apprentice-aged kits in a GoldClan raid some moons ago. She must have missed them.

The little patrol started out into the forest, passing Snowtail and Ruffledpaw on the way as the older warrior chastised his apprentice for his poor fighting stance. Even with his ears down, the ginger tom raised his tail in greeting to Molepaw, who nodded in acknowledgement with a knowing look. Briarfang's tail dragged along his shoulders, to keep him in focus, and he turned away from his friend, letting the fresh green on the forest fill his senses.

It had only been a moon since he'd been apprenticed, so he still felt compelled to drink it all in whenever he stepped out of camp. The thrill of adventure settled in his paws and sang in his blood, and he couldn't help but give a little bounce of excitement as he followed the older cats in his patrol down the slope leading out into the territory. Briarfang noticed this and rolled her eyes, but her expression was soft. She wasn't as harsh as she made herself out to be.  
>Thrushwing nearly jumped out of his fur when the bushes near him rustled without warning, causing Briarfang to burst into raucous laughter. Molepaw huffed, padding forward to investigate and casting an incredulous look back at his father when he saw that it was just the wind. "Your name should have been Thrushflight," he muttered under his breath, making sure Briarfang's sharp ears couldn't catch his words.<p>

Padding farther into the territory, and after having recovered from his minor shock, Thrushwing directed them to split up. Briarfang protested, "Molepaw hasn't been training long enough to know the territory yet!" The tom shrugged, glancing at his son. Molepaw felt himself practically buzzing with excitement at the very prospect of being able to go out without supervision.  
>"I'll be fine, trust me! Briarfang's taught me enough cool moves that if any filthy rogues tried to attack me, I'd slice 'em up!" he exclaimed, sliding his claws out for emphasis and digging them into the soft ground beneath his paws. Thrushwing took an automatic step back, giving a nervous chuckle. "At least he's eager," Briarfang murmured, sounding amused and earning another chuckle, this one much lighter.<br>"We'll meet right back here in a little while, maybe when the sky starts to turn orange?" Thurshwing suggested, and the two brown cats nodded.

Molepaw scampered away after a brief lecture from Briarfang (who seriously fussed over him way too much), trotting further into the territory. It was so bright and green- he'd never been so far from camp! He broke into a run, his muscles stretching and bunching in the most glorious way. He wasn't allowed to run full-pelt in camp, as the warriors were terrified he'd bowl over one of the kits or, even worse, Cherryfur herself. Molepaw thought she could take care of herself, but no one else in camp shared his sentiments.  
>It was only when he noticed the earth sloping under his paws that he looked up, just in time to smack into a smaller cat. He yelped, back claws digging into the earth to stop himself and forepaws pressing into soft gray fur. It took a second to recover, and even before then he could hear the cat he'd run into growling at him, her voice high-pitched and kitten-like.<br>When he looked up, he could see that she was, indeed, a kitten. She didn't look like she should still be out of the nursery- the thought ran through his mind that GoldClan must have been apprenticing their kits early. Then, after another moment of contemplation, he realized that he didn't recognize the smell on her, and that she was too skinny to be a Clan cat.

He automatically scrambled back, the fur along his spine bristling and his lips curling back in a fearsome snarl. The she-cat mimicked him, her tail swishing aggressively.

"What are you doing on FeatherClan land?!" Molepaw asked in a hiss, and the smaller she-cat's eyes flashed with brief confusion before she spat, "Hunting, what else!?" The anger that sped through the apprentice shocked him, and he felt his claws curling into the rocky soil.  
>"You heard me! This is FeatherClan territory, you can't hunt here!"<br>"Who says?!"

The response floored him, his anger halting momentarily. Was she stupid? His response came out sputtered, "_I _say! You can't just hunt on another cat's land, and I have an entire Clan that'll back me up! So get out!"

She glared at him, her eyes the brightest shade of blue he'd ever seen. "Make me," she hissed, and he saw red.

He was just about to spring when she suddenly relaxed, sitting down and lifting one paw to lap at. His anger again dissolved- who was she? She was so strange!  
>"So you're one of those Clancats? You don't live in the mountain, do you?" she asked, nonchalant, and he wanted to claw her ears. He'd just been about to kill her! Why was she so calm?<p>

"No, of course not! No cat can live on the mountain, you idiot!" he growled, and she snorted, a devious gleam in her eye. "Well I do! Or, I will! When I figure out how to hunt!"  
>Surprise showed clearly on Molepaw's face, and the loner let out a howl of laughter. "You should see your face!"<br>The apprentice huffed. "Well I'm surprised! How can-"

"_Molepaw!"_

Briarfang's roar was nearly deafening, and Molepaw's eyes widened as he was shouldered to the side. The loner had immediately jumped to her paws, her lips curled back to reveal sharp kitten teeth, but Briarfang didn't seem to care. She bowled the smaller cat over, engaging her in a series of snarls and hisses and a flurry of gray-and-brown fur. Molepaw smelled blood and saw the smaller cat disengage, or try to- Briarfang caught her by the haunches with thorn-sharp claws, and the loner let out a scream of pain, her claws gouging the ground as she struggled to free herself.

Molepaw stared in shock when Briarfang released the kitten with one last clawing, sending the loner running with her tail between her legs and blood soaking into her downy fur. Gaze still fixed on the fleeing gray cat, Molepaw was unprepared for the claws that came down on his own ear. He let out a sharp howl of surprise and pain, immediately dropping to the ground to cover the sore area with his paws.

"What were you _thinking?! _That cat could have been dangerous, she could have hurt you! She was stealing prey, no less!" she spat, and the disdain in her voice was enough to make the smaller apprentice flinch.  
>"I'm sorry, she was just so strange and I thought-"<br>"You _didn't _think! If you were _thinking _then you'd have known that you needed to chase her off!" Briarfang spat, and Molepaw cowered further.

The bigger tabby glared at him for a moment before releasing a long sigh, leaning down to roughly lap at his ear.  
>"You can't do stuff like that. You're not a kit anymore, you can't afford to be naïve. What if she had been a GoldClan warrior? Would you have let her stay then?"<br>Molepaw shook his head furiously, and she nodded, looking a bit more satisfied.

"Let's head back to meet Thrushwing… Maybe you can catch something big enough to make up for your little blunder back there!"


	4. Chapter Two

Molepaw straightened, the mouse he'd been stalking held firmly in his jaws. His mouth watered around the little creature, but he made sure not to bite down too hard. Ruffledpaw, at his side, gave him a purr of encouragement.

"You're getting to be as good as Spottedheart," the tom purred, sweeping his tail over Molepaw's shoulders. He flushed slightly at the compliment, setting the rodent down to reply. "I'd better slow down then," he chuckled, earning a confused look from his fellow apprentice. "She'll fight me for her position," he added, and Ruffledpaw snorted, padding ahead.  
>"A good hunter's a good hunter, she can get over it," he huffed, and Molepaw purred in amusement. "I'm just catching for the Clan. There's no need for it to be a competition," he reminded, and Ruffledpaw rolled his eyes.<br>"Such a stick in the mud," he complained, and Molepaw scowled, batting at him playfully. "I can't have _too _much fun, Briarfang's got me working too hard to do anything but hunt," he exclaimed, and Ruffledpaw again snorted.

"At least _you _don't have _moss duty, _you ungrateful furball," he meowed, and Molepaw scoffed, batting at him again. The ginger tom stepped away from him, ears twitching in annoyance. "That's entirely your fault, though," the darker tom pointed out, receiving another roll of the eyes. Ruffledpaw turned to face him, amber eyes glinting. "Come on! How do _you _not get in trouble with _Briarfang _as your mentor?"

"Lots of compromises," Molepaw replied, and Ruffledpaw snorted in amusement. "Lame. So what, like you catch all this extra prey to get out of having to replace kit bedding?" He nodded, and the longer-furred tom's mouth set into an irritated line. He sat, curling his fluffy tail over his paws, and Molepaw sighed, breaking off into another purr. "What? It works." He moved to sit by Ruffledpaw, ignoring the slight warmth in his fur when the other tom pressed into him slightly. "Maybe you should talk to Snowtail about something like that instead of fighting with him about Starlingpaw all the time, hm?"

Ruffledpaw looked sheepish at that, his tail curling in embarrassment. "Maybe," he conceded, and Molepaw couldn't help the discomfort that prickled through his fur when he leaned into him further, fur soft against his. He moved away, and Ruffledpaw made to follow until he saw the uncomfortable expression on his friend's face. He immediately straightened and stood, licking at the fur on his chest awkwardly. "Well, er," he muttered, muscles tense. Molepaw's teeth clenched, worry squeezing his belly. He didn't like the tense atmosphere, and wished that Ruffledpaw wasn't so comfortable around him sometimes.

"I'm going to head up towards the GoldClan border, see if I can catch one of those rabbits around there," Ruffledpaw mewed gruffly, and Molepaw nodded wordlessly. "I'll head up to the mountain, I guess," he murmured, and the ginger tom gave a minute nod before taking off.  
>Molepaw lingered a moment, his eyes landing on the mouse he'd caught earlier. He sighed, absently scraping some earth over it before heading off himself. Ruffledpaw had been getting almost too close for comfort, and it usually ended in like situations… But then he'd show up and act like nothing had happened. It was too confusing for the brown apprentice; he just wanted to be friends.<p>

Molepaw stretched out his limbs as he ran, absently remembering the kit he'd met some moons before in the same area. Despite her being a loner, she was very interesting… He hoped she hadn't starved, though she'd looked close to succumbing to Briarfang's attack…  
>When he felt the earth tilt under his paws he slowed to a stop, panting slightly. Cool air flowed down the mountains, burning his lungs a bit, and he took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling. The apprentice looked around, padded in a wide circle with his jaws parted, half-heartedly scenting for her. Fighting his disappointment that she hadn't returned, he sighed. Well, if he thought about it logically, after a thrashing from Briarfang, he wouldn't want to come back, either…<p>

He stopped and sat after a long moment, sighing again. He didn't even know why he was so interested in the kit; she was just very strange. And he'd thought long and hard about it, and it didn't seem possible for anyone to even _want _to live on the mountain, much less actually attempt to do so… Looking up at the huge slope of gray stone, he could understand why. It was Greenleaf and he could already see that the cap of the mountain was white with snow. No cat in their right mind could live there.

His ear twitched slightly at a faint rustle in the bushes, and he ignored it. Or tried. When he finally whipped his head towards the sound, he gasped, drawing the attention of the she-cat creeping out of the bushes. Her eyes – just as piercingly blue as he remembered – widened, and her entire body arched upwards, thick fur bristling and lips curling over her teeth. She was nearly as big as him, and it surprised him. He automatically bristled to keep the advantage over her.  
>"Hey now," he cautioned, stepping forward and stopping when her ears flicked back. His eyes traced her pelt and noticed the ragged scars cutting through her fur. She couldn't have been more than starting-apprentice age and she already looked like a senior warrior. Pity stirred in his gut but he couldn't afford to indulge it right now, with a very experienced and very angry loner standing before him.<p>

"Calm down?" he tried, and she hissed. "I'm not going to hurt you. Remember me? From a few moons ago?" She narrowed her eyes warily, and the memory flickered over her face as quick as a trout in a stream. She only hissed louder and bowed up higher. "You brought that big warrior with you!" she accused, and Molepaw shook his head frantically. "No! No, not this time!" And he glanced behind him to make sure it was true, turning around to come face-to-face with the she-cat.

Her breath stank of fresh blood, and Molepaw vaguely registered the dead pigeon at the bush she'd been in moments before. How had he not smelled her? Was she downwind of him or was he really that out of it?  
>"So you're not going to spout that nonsense about Clan land or whatever again?" she asked warily, and the question caught him so off-guard that he laughed, especially after realizing that he really should have been angry. Maybe he was the stupid one.<p>

"Not this time," he finally wheezed, coughing to choke off his laughter. Her eyes held amusement. "I just want to talk to you," he added, and she blinked in surprise.  
>"Oh?"<br>Molepaw nodded, straightening to fix her with a curious look. "Mmmhm. You're really weird," he said, only flushing after she gave him a strange look. He hadn't meant to say that out-loud. "My name's Molepaw, by the way."

The she-cat nodded, her lips curling up in amusement after his introduction. "My name is Frost," she said, and Molepaw couldn't help but wait to hear what the second half of her name was. When it never came he huffed, having to remind himself that she hadn't been born in a Clan. But somehow the singular word fit her. Cold and singular, though he only knew her from two meetings.

"And why are you calling me weird when your Clans are the only cats in the area with your mindset?" she asked with a soft purr, her muscles relaxing slightly. He shrugged, again feeling his fur flush. "Well, you didn't attack me earlier. And you said something about living on the mountain, and not being able to hunt? How is that even possible?" he asked, the questions pouring out. Frost's whiskers twitched in amusement, and he mimicked her as he sat down, tail wrapping over his paws tightly. The cat beside him seemed to hold some sort of ethereal power, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Was it just because of her enigmatic appearance?

"I didn't attack you because you didn't attack me," she started with confidence, stretching one forepaw out in front of her to lightly graze her claws along the ground. Molepaw felt like she was showing off the thorn-sharp talons now because she hadn't been able to earlier, and was suddenly glad he hadn't decided to engage her. She would have been a nasty opponent, especially now that she was older.  
>"And yes, I do live on the mountain. Or rather, I plan to. It's a lot harder to catch prey where it starts turning rocky, so I mostly hunt down around here," She motioned with her tail to the area around them, and he nodded absently, surprised at himself for not feeling angrier that she admitted to stealing FeatherClan prey.<br>"And I can hunt now, of course. I caught that pigeon by myself, and I've been able to do that for almost a moon now. Before Aspen caught my prey for me, because I was too small." Frost quickly went on to explain, once Molepaw gave her a confused look, "Aspen lives in a twoleg nest way up the mountain, and he's probably the smartest cat I know. I'll have to introduce you, I guess."

At that she lapsed into silence, and Molepaw blinked, slowly processing the information. His ears burned. Did she plan to talk with him again? Did she know that she was technically supposed to be dead right now, if he was doing his duty as a Clan cat?  
>The silence was surprisingly comfortable, and Molepaw started to grow unnerved. <em>This <em>was what he had missed with Ruffledpaw. The ability to just sit, without it getting awkward if the quiet lapsed for too long. He almost felt like he was betraying his friend for the comfort he felt around this loner she-cat, and shook the thoughts away.  
>In the next instant, he was blurting, "Why don't you join a Clan or something?"<p>

Frost's eyes widened, and she tilted her head in a look of hilarious incredulity, so he rushed to explain, "Well, you look like an experienced warrior already, and you know how to hunt and fight! A Clan would serve you a lot better than some kittypet living on a mountain that no one could possibly fare on their own on! I mean, for instance, FeatherClan would love to have you!" He finished in a huff, and was about to continue when Frost held her tail up for silence.  
>An awful feeling of dejection crashed through him before she even spoke, fear of scaring her off suddenly very present in his mind. He started to open his mouth to take the words back, but she silenced him with a playful look and a purr.<p>

"Well," she began, and hope unfurled bright green leaves in his heart. "I _would, _but that's not really my thing. I'd be an outsider too," she added, and Molepaw felt his heart sink without knowing why. "Oh…"

She got to her paws, fluffy tail tip swiping over his nose. He looked up, surprised, and she laughed. "Not to mention," she hummed, and he tilted his head. "I wouldn't dare let them take away my name and give me something as silly as 'Molepaw' to call myself by!"  
><em>That <em>made him bristle, recent rejection in his mind, and he stood as well, tail lashing once. Frost gazed at him expectantly, and he refused to bite his tongue or curb the bitterness in his voice when he growled, "Yeah, well if you're not planning on joining then you should leave." She snorted, not looking surprised and it infuriated him a bit.  
>She turned and gave him a wry look before grabbing her now-cool pigeon off the ground and darting off, her well-developed muscles allowing her to scale the side of the mountain with ease. Just when the apprentice had turned to pad off, tail-tip switching angrily, he heard her call after him, and glared over his shoulder at her. Frost had stopped running, looking a bit distant from the many foxlengths she had run. She was panting a little bit.<br>"My name wouldn't be as dumb as 'Molepaw', it would totally be cooler!"


	5. Allegiances (2)

F. E. A. T. H. E. R. C. L. A. N.

Leader:

Mottledstar – Old black-and-ginger spotted chimera tom with amber eyes.

Deputy:

Eagleclaw – Big brown-and-white tom with yellow eyes.  
>(apprentice: Ivypaw)<p>

Medicine cat:

Mistberry – Frail gray she-cat with green eyes.

Warriors:

Briarfang – Big brown tabby she-cat with scars stretching across her face and flanks.

(apprentice: Molepaw)

Snowtail – White tom with pale blue eyes.

(apprentice: Ruffledpaw)

Gingerface – Beautiful ginger-and-white she-cat with green eyes.

(apprentice: Starlingpaw)

Spottedheart – Spotted brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes.  
>(apprentice: Mudpaw)<p>

Thrushwing – Dark brown tom with amber eyes.

Cherryfur – Tortoiseshell she-cat with blind green eyes.

Apprentices:

Molepaw – Brown tom with a white tail-tip and yellow eyes.

Ruffledpaw – Long-furred ginger tom with amber eyes.

Starlingpaw – Dark brown tabby she-cat with a cream-colored chest and paws. Amber eyes.

Mudpaw– Black-and-white tom with amber eyes.

Ivypaw – Brown-and-white tabby she-cat with green eyes.

Queens:

Lightfoot – Pale ginger she-cat with yellow eyes. Pregnant with Thrushwing's kits.

G. O. L. D. C. L. A. N.

Leader:

Goldstar – Fluffy black she-cat with golden eyes.

Deputy:

Pineclaw – Brown tabby tom with very long claws.

Medicine cat:

Rushfeather – Ginger tabby tom with golden eyes.

(apprentice: Tansyfur)

Warriors:

Hollybreeze – Ginger she-cat with green eyes.

Oakwhisker – Brown tabby tom with yellow eyes.

Emberspots – Gray tom with darker gray flecks.

Runningstep – Black tom with long legs and green eyes.

(apprentice: Fisherpaw)

Daisyface – Fluffy ginger-and-white trans she-cat with green eyes.

Acornfur – Dark brown tom with gray eyes.

Coppertail – White trans she-cat with ginger ears and tail. Heterochromatic golden-blue eyes.

Berrytail – Cream-and-brown tom with gray-green eyes.

Birdwing – Blue-gray tabby tom with yellow eyes.

Queens:

Ashclaw – Gray tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

Apprentices:

Fisherpaw – Very pale gray tom.

Tansyfur – Golden tabby she-cat with blue eyes.

Dovepaw - Gray-and-white tabby she-cat with yellow eyes.

C . A. T. S. O. U. T. S. I. D. E. C. L. A. N. S.

Aspen – Short gray tabby trans tom with brown eyes.

Frost – Fluffy gray she-cat with a white blaze and forepaw and blue eyes.

Harriet – Long-furred brown tabby kittypet with blue eyes.

Mayfly – Brown-and-white tabby she-cat with blue eyes.


	6. Chapter Three

Worry bubbled just under his skin when Molepaw didn't scent Frost at the border. He hadn't seen her or smelled her for the last two moons- did she really leave? He didn't think she would have, since she was so stupid and confrontational. So the only option he could think was that she was dead. After all, no cat could live unaided in the mountains. They were too cold and rocky. There probably wasn't any flat land to even attempt sleeping on or making a camp with…

He padded back into the camp, meowing a short greeting to Starlingpaw from where she was sitting with Gingerface, and she purred softly in response. Gingerface stood, mewing an "excuse me" to her apprentice as she trotted to catch up with the darker tom. Molepaw paused so she could catch up, and she shot him a grateful look.  
>"Hey, do you know what's wrong with Ruffledpaw lately? He always runs off whenever I'm on patrol with him, and he's barely progressing… At least, that's what Snowtail says…"<br>The mention of the ginger tom had Molepaw grimacing slightly. "No idea," he meowed, and she sighed. "I don't think he likes how close to Starlingpaw Snowtail is getting…." He supplied, and she shrugged.

"I suppose so, but that's dumb. She likes Snowtail just as much, and Snowtail would never take advantage of her," she meowed with a frown. Molepaw shrugged. "Ruffledpaw has a problem with knowing that cats can make their own choices," he muttered, and Gingerface's ears pricked with interest. Then she snorted. "It seems like a lot of cats have that problem," she observed, and he laughed.  
>"Yes, I suppose so," he said, and Gingerface shook her head. "I was just asking because Starlingpaw is worried. You know how she gets… well, sorry for bothering you!" She waved her long, plumy tail in farewell, and he watched her bound across the clearing to her apprentice's side with warm eyes.<p>

He felt pressure on his paw, and hurriedly stepped back. Cherryfur yelped and ducked her head. "Sorry, Molepaw!" she squeaked, and he shook his head before remembering that she couldn't see. "It's alright, Cherryfur," he said gently, though he was curious if she was alright or not. Usually she was very careful and moved like a cat with full-sight…

The tortoiseshell's ears flattened. "Sorry," she mewed again shyly. "I wasn't thinking straight…" He brushed against her slightly to comfort her. "You're fine," he soothed, and she relaxed. "Are you looking for something?"  
>She turned to him with wide green eyes, and he knew better than to feel unnerved by the way her sights were set at a point just above his ears. "Oh, yes! I was looking for Mudpaw, have you seen him?"<br>Molepaw shook his head apologetically, cursing at himself when he forgot again. "No," he reiterated, and her expression fell. "Oh… Well I'll just go back to the warrior's den, then…" She turned, looking almost unsure of herself as she felt out the way to her den, the apprentice promising mentally to tell Mudpaw that his mother was looking for him the next time he saw him. Molepaw watched her to make sure she got there safely, and sighed when her tail-tip disappeared into the den. Even though he knew she could take care of herself, watching her move around was nerve-wracking. Especially since she had barely moved from the nursery for almost eight moons…  
>He looked towards the den when he thought about it, purring at the sight of his mother waddling out to bask in the fading greenleaf sunlight, her belly round with kits. Thrushwing followed her, gently fussing over her, and she rolled her eyes. Lightfoot picked out a spot undappled by leaves, easing herself down onto the ground and getting comfortable. She meowed something to Thrushwing, and he sighed, laying by her and curling around her as best he could, starting to groom her ears lovingly.<p>

A sudden shriek rang through the camp, Ivypaw running in with her eyes wide as fur hanging off one shoulder. Snowtail padded in after her, carefully supporting a bleeding Ruffledpaw with one shoulder.  
>Molepaw's heart dropped into his paws at the sight of his friend so injured, and he rushed forward, questions burning on his tongue. From the corner of his eye he could see Ivypaw rushing to her mother's side and hiding against her, like a kit. Lightfoot's expression was grave as she stared from across the clearing.<p>

Eagleclaw stepped forward from the ring of cats, allowing frail Mistberry through with a mouthful of herbs. She fussed at Ruffledpaw, escorting him to her den, and Eagleclaw turned to Snowtail. "Was it GoldClan?" he asked, and the white tom shook his head, eyes dark with anger and embarrassment. The Clan immediately began to murmur anxiously, and Molepaw heard Briarfang cursing under her breath. Confusion and distress prickled at his own pelt. If it wasn't GoldClan, then who was it? There weren't any other groups of cats he knew of, unless there were some rogues or something. And then, FeatherClan didn't need more enemies! Greenleaf was just ending, and taking the good prey with it. They wouldn't be able to handle turmoil on two sides!  
>Eagleclaw then lifted his tail, allowing Snowtail to speak. The tom's eyes lowered as he started, "There were two loners. She-cats." The Clan started to speak up again, several voices raised now in confusion and ridicule. Eagleclaw silenced them with a glare. The white tom in the center continued, "They attacked us from out of nowhere. One of them cornered Ruffledpaw when he was alone, and she attacked Ivypaw when she got too close… They were going to fight me too, but all three of us rushed them and they ran." His claws dug into the earth, and anger glimmered in his pale blue eyes. "They ran up the mountain."<p>

Molepaw felt cold seep into his heart. "Where were you?" he blurted, and Starlingpaw, near him, gave him a funny look. Snowtail growled. "Right at the north edge of the GoldClan border, near the stream." That was far away from where Frost usually hunted, but maybe-

His thought process was interrupted by Eagleclaw. The deputy growled. "Did you follow them, or did you come straight back?" he asked, and Snowtail shook his head. "Ivypaw was scared, and Ruffledpaw was too injured. I didn't want to risk running into a GoldClan patrol." Eagleclaw nodded, but looked angry. He flicked his tail, turning to the Clan. "Get back to your places," he ordered, and the gathered cats scrambled. He looked at Snowtail, eyes gleaming. "Take Gingerface and Briarfang with you, go try and track their scent." The tom looked more than happy to oblige, his expression livid. "We'll make those cowards pay if we find them," he said through his teeth, waving his tail. The two she-cats immediately flocked to his side, and Briarfang gave Molepaw a pointed look before they all disappeared out of camp. The apprentice grimaced inwardly; that look meant 'don't do anything stupid'. Not that he would…

Though he did think that maybe Frost was involved, and worry started to grow in his stomach. Before he knew it, he found his paws carrying him to the medicine den, where Ivypaw sat outside. She was still trembling, and Molepaw felt a rush of pity for the younger cat. She had only just been apprenticed… Not to mention, she was probably worried out of her mind for her brother, who was out hunting with Spottedheart. He gently brushed against her and she jumped, a tiny sob hiccupping in her throat. She sniffled and gave him a grateful look when he paused, jerking her head to the side to tell him it was okay. He padded inside after another moment of hesitation, greeted almost immediately with a loud curse and the sight of Ruffledpaw clenching his teeth, writhing under Mistberry's ancient paws as she applied a layer of cobwebs.

The medicine cat looked up, jaws parted and eyes blazing with reprimand, but she sighed when she saw that it was just Molepaw, recognizing him as Ruffledpaw's best friend. She hesitated, then nipped at the ginger tom's ear, causing him to wince. "Don't you dare move from this spot," she warned, her voice rasping out, and he nodded frantically, wincing again. Molepaw stiffened when she turned to him, hissing a threat similar to 'if I come back and his wounds are reopened, I'll claw your ears off' before stalking out of the den, grabbing a few marigold leaves on the way along with a cobweb, likely to treat the scratch he'd seen on Ivypaw's shoulder.  
>Molepaw approached his friend, and Ruffledpaw watched him with tightened eyes. "Hey," he said, the word thick in the stuffy air of the den. Rufflepaw huffed slightly. "Hey," he echoed back, and Molepaw noticed that his tail-tip twitched. He swallowed.<p>

"So you let a loner beat you up?" The ginger tom hissed at that, turning his head to fix his friend with a cross amber stare. "I didn't _let _her do anything. She was _huge, _and she knew how to fight better than any cat I know," he added, wincing. Molepaw glanced over his injuries, wincing slightly at sight of blood still oozing slowly through the cobwebs. One of Ruffledpaw's ears was torn to ribbons, he could tell, and one eye was swollen shut. "She got you good, huh? How did she look?" he asked, and Ruffledpaw snorted. He looked like he was going to move, then remembered Mistberry's orders and stayed put.  
>"I couldn't do anything," he confessed, sounding bitter. Molepaw's ears pricked. "She totally outclassed me. See, <em>this <em>is why having moss duty all the time is a bad thing!" The whine made the brown apprentice burst out laughing, receiving a half-hearted glare from his friend. "It's not funny! If Snowtail actually trained me once in a while instead of mooning over Starlingpaw, then I'd have showed that loner what-for!"  
>Molepaw laughed harder, biting his tongue when Ruffledpaw whine. He tried to stifle his chuckles as he said, "I'm sure you would have," laughter fading when he saw the gleam in his friend's visible eye. Suddenly uncomfortable, he coughed. "So, uh… You okay? Not dying or anything, right?" Filler questions.<p>

"Yeah, I'm fine. Mistberry said that if I don't reopen my wounds, I'll be back in action in a quarter moon… Just in time for the next Gathering!" he added, sounding excited. Mention of the event sparked an idea in Molepaw's mind, and he nodded absently, purring at his friend's enthusiasm. "That's great! Maybe I can teach you and Starlingpaw some of the moves Briarfang's taught me?" he suggested, and Ruffledpaw nodded so rapidly that he winced, having hit his chin on the floor of the den and causing another round of raucous laughter, this time shared.  
>When they both caught their breaths, Molepaw meowed a hasty goodbye and slipped out of the den, trying hard to ignore the way Ruffledpaw's good eye lingered on him as he left. He needed to think, and Ruffledpaw's presence wasn't helping. When he thought about it, he almost cursed- he probably could have just asked Ruffledpaw what the cat he fought looked like. But then that would probably make him suspicious… He sighed.<p>

He'd have to find out during the next Gathering, when the Clan was away. He'd have to find Frost and confront her, find out who that other she-cat was if it was her. He couldn't allow her to just go around attacking his Clanmates like that; he wouldn't let her get away with everything!


	7. Chapter Four

Molepaw pressed his nose to the soft pink pad in the center of Flamekit's paw, receiving a little squeak and the slight curling of his little toes around his nose, almost like he was grabbing him. He purred, eyes wide with awe, and did it again, hearing Lightfoot chuckle in slight amusement beside him. Flamekit had only been born a pawful of days ago, so his eyes weren't open yet, but Molepaw could tell he had a ton of personality already. The little ginger kit flexed his tiny paw against his older brother's nose again and Molepaw's eyes softened in adoration. The kit was so tiny- just as big as the white tip of his tail, maybe!  
>His sister, Nettlekit, mewled pitifully, and Lightfoot gently tucked her against her stomach. The older apprentice was still amazed that his mother's belly had shrunk so much after being so huge.<br>Thrushwing was still parading around camp, looking so satisfied and content that it was hard to believe he was the same cat. Molepaw vacantly wondered if he had acted the same way when he was born, and when Lightfoot meowed that he had, the apprentice flushed, not realizing he'd said that out loud.

He yelped when Flamekit's feeble claws pressed into his nose, jerking back in surprise and earning a squeal from his brother. It hadn't hurt so much as shocked him, and he quickly smothered the squirming kit in comforting licks when he started crying. Nettlekit perked up when she heard her brother's wails, but thankfully didn't join in, resting her dark face against Lightfoot's stomach. The she-cat looked up, and Molepaw followed her gaze, as Thrushwing padded into the nursery. The darker tom pressed his muzzle to his mate's in greeting, a loud purr rumbling out of his throat. He turned to his son after a moment of contented nuzzling that Molepaw turned away from. "Briarfang was looking for you. Wants you to go on patrol with her," he added, leaning down to lap at a stray wisp of fur sticking up on Nettlekit's head and earning a plaintive mew.  
>Molepaw frowned, then nodded, knowing better than to keep his mentor waiting. He nuzzled his younger brother for a moment, then gently lifted him, placing him at their mother's side carefully. He looked down on the tiny creatures, eyes warm, before turning to trot out of the den.<p>

The warmth of Greenleaf had quickly faded, and golden leaves rained down on and around the camp, the older ones faintly crunching under his paws when he picked up the pace to join Briarfang, across the clearing. Eagleclaw was nearby, talking over Mudpaw's insistent babble to tell the sunhigh patrol where to go. Spottedheart was just turning to leave the camp when Briarfang caught sight of her apprentice, and she purred, the noise rasping in her throat.  
>The smaller tom tilted his head. "You okay? You sound sick," he added, and the tabby shrugged. "Mistberry hasn't told me to stay in camp, so I'll be fine," she croaked, and Molepaw frowned, concerned. She cuffed his ear with a soft sheathed paw, and he shook his head. "Where are we headed?"<p>

"We're going to join up with Gingerface and Starlingpaw at the GoldClan border. There's been a lot of rabbits around there, and they've been pretty fat," she said, licking her lips, and he purred, letting her trot ahead of him into the forest. "Mottledstar's been wanting to come on patrol recently, too. Eagleclaw won't let him, thinks he's too old and frail." She laughed and it was echoed by the younger cat at her side. "You just watch! Mottledstar was known for being the best hunter in the Clans when he was younger, I hear," she continued, and Molepaw tilted his head to listen, fascination glimmering in his eyes.

Mottledstar was essentially a recluse, and had been ever since Molepaw could remember. He almost never emerged from his den, preferring to let Eagleclaw take the stage. Maybe he was honing his skills for leadership when he finally died? Rumor had it that Mottledstar was on his last life… When he did come out, it was for Gatherings or Clan meetings. Molepaw only recalled having seen him four or five times in his lifetime, and pledged that if he were to ever become leader he'd never hide from his Clan, as the chimera tom was prone to doing….

Molepaw was too quick to pad off when he was told he could do so, his jaws parted slightly to catch scent. Gingerface crossed his path once, her green eyes full of triumph and her neck arched slightly, a fat rabbit in her mouth. Fire lit up in Molepaw's chest. He wouldn't be outdone!

He quickly found a scent trail and crouched low, creeping along the undergrowth. The almost overpowering stench of the GoldClan border markings rang in his head, but he pushed it to the side, focusing on the wild and gamey scent of rabbit ahead of him.  
>The brown apprentice had just found the rabbit, its ears twitching against the various sounds of the forest and its jaws moving frantically, the faint noise of grinding teeth bothering Molepaw's own hearing. He crouched even lower, feeling his chest fur brush against the dry leaves below him. He lifted his paws high, trying to avoid crunching said leaves as he crept ever closer, his breath bottled up in his chest while he tried his hardest to not give himself away. Finally deeming himself close enough, he bunched his muscles, preparing to spring-<p>

The second he pounced, a sturdy body crashed into his side, knocking the breath from his body. He let out a startled yelp, hearing the rabbit take off through the leaves as he lay crumpled on the ground, eyes wide with shock.  
>The cat who'd run into him sprang away, and Molepaw absently felt fire explode in his ear. He hissed in pain, immediately scrambling to his paws. For a half second, he hoped it was Frost, but when his eyes adjusted he was quick to note that the patterns were all wrong. There was too much white, and if he remembered correctly, Frost didn't have dark tabby markings stretching across her flanks. Sharp yellow eyes raked over him, so different from the piercing blue he had previously noted, and he half-recognized the cat before him as a GoldClan apprentice, Dovepaw.<p>

His hackled raised, and he instantly hissed, fluffing out his fur. Dovepaw was a few moons younger than him, but apparently she was very talented, if Goldstar's reports at the Gatherings were any account to go by. He was about to spit out a warning, but Dovepaw spoke first. "You little rat," she snarled, her voice high-pitched and cruel sounding. Molepaw absently wondered if her mother regretted naming her after a Dove when she continued, "What do you think you're doing, stealing GoldClan prey? I ought to gut you right now!"

Molepaw started to protest, but let his nose twitch and take in the scent around him. _I must have crossed the border by accident! _he thought, mortification making his fur hot. He'd been daydreaming and let himself get caught in this situation!

Dovepaw stalked closer to him and he instinctively backed up, tail bristled out and swishing ominously. "Hey look, it was a misunderstanding," he said, trying to calm her down. Her eyes glinted with fury.  
>"You lying FeatherClan filth!" she growled, and he shook his head. "Look, I crossed the border on accident!" he said, hating that he had to grovel at her feet. She looked so smug- he wanted to claw the expression off her face so badly, and her whiskers twitched, as if she sensed his intent. "You can have the stupid rabbit, okay? Just let me go-" He made to step back, and she almost lunged at him. He froze just in time, and her muscles relaxed.<p>

Molepaw could hear pawsteps behind him, and half prayed that it was Briarfang, even though he hated being seen in this compromising situation more than anything else he'd ever done in his life.

Dovepaw glanced up, her hateful yellow eyes narrowing, and she hissed. "Come any closer and I'll kill you both!"  
>Starlingpaw's thin, wavering voice spoke up, gaining more momentum, and Molepaw was surprised. Not only to hear that it was her, but to hear bitter sarcasm dripping from her voice.<br>"You? Alone? Please. Give the idiot back and maybe we'll _consider _letting you leave with all your fur still attached!"  
>An odd sense of pride welled in Molepaw when he saw Dovepaw's face twist in fury, though he was a bit stunned to hear Starlingpaw call him an idiot. She was usually so nice! She spat out some curse, then, "Of course I'm not alone! I've got an entire patrol to back me up!"<p>

Starlingpaw scoffed from behind him. "So do we! FeatherClan isn't so careless as to just _let _apprentices run around on their own, you know!"  
>The tabby in front of him snarled. "Neither is GoldClan, if that's what you're implying!" Molepaw thought he was going to get a head ache, the apprentice's voice was so unpleasant. He knew for a fact that not all GoldClan cats were this annoying.<p>

"Of course not," Starlingpaw meowed, confident. "So what? Do we just wait for the first patrol to show up and take him? Or are you gonna fight me? I can guarantee that two FeatherClan apprentices are more than enough to take down even the strongest GoldClan warrior," she sneered, and Dovepaw stiffened. Molepaw shuffled slightly, freezing again when the tabby's claws glinted, turned towards him. He gulped. What to do? Wait for Briarfang to show up and save him? Starlingpaw's (surprisingly intimidating) scare tactics weren't working…

Dovepaw suddenly snorted, withdrawing her claws. She looked contemptuous, flicking her tail at Molepaw. The darker apprentice scuttled back across the border, a muttered "pardon me" leaving him as he darted for Starlingpaw's side. The she-cat nodded at him, anxiously glancing over him to check for injuries, and Dovepaw rolled her eyes. "I didn't hurt him, stupid. If I did, he'd be howling on the floor," she said, and Molepaw suddenly felt hyper-conscious of the tear in his ear. It seemed both of the other apprentices noticed at the same time as him, because Starlingpaw motioned to it with a skeptical look, and Dovepaw sighed. "Not too bad, at least. Now get out of here! Next time I won't be so forgiving!" she warned, her high-pitched voice actually sounding somewhat tolerable when she wasn't screeching at him.

Molepaw was all to happy to oblige, turning to take off back into the safety of his own territory. He felt Starlingpaw at his side, and, once they were a safe distance away, he slowed to a stop. She shot past him, coming back after a moment with a curious look on her face.

"What is it, Molepaw?"  
>The tom felt his fur flush, and he dipped his head. "I just wanted to say thanks. You got me out of a really nasty situation," he mewed, and she was silent a moment. Then she laughed, a carefree little sound. She flicked his cheek with her tail, and he looked up into warm amber eyes. He almost wished that she wasn't already partial towards Snowtail, and for an instant guilt ate at his stomach, though he had no clue why.<p>

"It's my job to watch out for you guys, since you obviously can't do it yourselves," she said, her voice losing a bit of its confidence now that the intensity of the situation had worn off. She purred, and her voice was shaky and almost exhausted. Molepaw thought that she almost looked like she was going to crash, and wondered out a simple conversation had tired her own so much. But then, that whole scene had left him with the blood roaring in his ears, too…

"Well, still," he muttered, and she shook her head. "Come on. If Briarfang finds out about this, both of us will have kit duty for forever!"

Molepaw was almost disappointed that they didn't have more prey when they returned, but supposed that they had enough. He had a rather plump squirrel, the bristly hairs sticking to his teeth, and Starlingpaw was carrying three mice in by their tails, while Gingerface and Briarfang each hauled a rabbit. They deposited their prey, and then both apprentice immediately moved to their den, collapsing in their nests. Molepaw had gotten away with lying about his torn ear, muttering something about a rabbit getting away while Starlingpaw repressed giggles beside him. Briarfang had looked skeptical but bought it, and Mistberry had sighed and shooed him out of the den after slapping some cobwebs on it.

He felt exhausted, his muscles aching and his eyes heavy. The lack of energy had caught up to him while sitting in the medicine den, and he yawned. Starlingpaw was already out, her tail curled over her nose, and he curled into a similar position, letting his mind wander and his eyes slip closed.  
>A cat with frosty gray fur and beautiful blue eyes haunted the space behind his eyelids as he dreamed.<p>

She was ethereal, brushing up against him and running ahead of him, almost always just out of reach. Every now and again she would turn back to look at him, patience and expectation in her eyes.  
>Suddenly her expression turned urgent, and she allowed him to come near, her tail curling between her long legs.<br>"Molepaw," she whispered.  
>"Wake up."<p>

His eyes flashed open, his chest heaving, and he looked up. Long shadows stretched into the den, tinged blue with the light of the nearly-full moon. His ears twitched, and he sighed, laying his head back down to try and go back to sleep.  
>His eyes didn't want to cooperate, so he watched the shadows, curious as to how they moved. The trees weren't usually that fluid… Was his mind just playing tricks on him?<br>Then he heard something. A little curse, in a high-pitched voice.

The fur along the back of his neck rose, and he held his breath, hearing leaves crunch under the intruder's paws as they came closer. The moment a scarred tabby head poked into the apprentice den he let out a screech, the noise tearing at his throat.

"_GoldClan is attacking!"_


	8. Chapter Five

The camp exploded into madness in an instant, with Molepaw's scream jerking everyone into wakefulness. Warriors stumbled out of their den, only to be set upon by the equally-surprised GoldClan warriors. The scarred tabby at the apprentice's den stared owlishly at him before snarling and lunging, catching the just-stirring Ivypaw by her scruff. The she-cat let out a shriek of terror and pain, and her brother echoed an angrier version, flinging himself at the much bigger cat. Molepaw half-recognized him from patrols- his name was Oakwhisker, and he was a surprisingly nice cat. Not now, though, batting away apprentices with one paw and tearing through their nests with sharp claws.

Molepaw felt terror rush through him and he leaped at the tom, startling him enough to force him back a few tail lengths. Then he darted out, Ivypaw, Mudpaw, and Starlingpaw streaming out after him. Oakwhisker let out a howl of rage, then a yelp as Ruffledpaw set upon him with burning amber eyes and sharp teeth. Molepaw glanced around him, chest heaving. The Clan was in chaos, with GoldClan cats swarming the entrance of the camp. He spotted Cherryfur and Gingerface tag-teaming a long-legged black tom, and behind them Briarfang had pinned a white-and-ginger cat to the ground, her claws buried in the molly's neck.

He felt a weight hit his shoulder, but he kept his ground, front legs locking and claws digging into the ground. He turned to his attacker with a snarl, leaping for the confused tom with an infuriated shriek. His claws caught in short blue-gray fur, and the tom let out a howl, jerking back as blood welled on his muzzle. Molepaw didn't let him flee, fury rushing through his limbs. He wouldn't let them get away with attacking their camp, like they had the right to! He bit down, hard, on the warrior's ear, and received a hiss of rage and pain and the taste of blood in his mouth. Surprise flitted over the apprentice's face as he was suddenly slammed down, the breath leaving his lungs. A heavy weight rolled him over, and he barely moved in time to avoid teeth to the throat. The blue tom had rolled away, and he watched him out of the corner of his vision engage Thrushwing by the nursery. He had been replaced with a big cream-colored tom; Molepaw grunted as claws raked down his chest, thrashing from side to side in an effort to get away from the bigger cat. He could feel blood roaring in his ears and dribbling through his fur, a slow and warm ooze. He scrabbled helplessly, flailing in his struggle to escape. His back paws caught momentum suddenly, and the tom attacking him cried out in pain as he was shoved off with a strong kick to the belly. Molepaw immediately rolled, his movements improved from memory as he jumped on the now-defenseless cat, clawing and biting at his ears with a fury he hadn't know he could possess. "You cowards!" he snarled in the tom's ear. "Attacking us while we sleep! Did you think we'd be so stupid and not notice!?" He sank his teeth into the cat's scruff, his neck aching and straining as he slammed the cream-and-brown tom to the ground. He heard a soft huff, and growled, allowing the tom to get up only to batter at his haunches with sharp and merciless claws. The warrior yelped and took off, fur ripping from his lower back and haunches to litter the clearing as he ran. "Stay out!" Molepaw shouted after him, tempted to run after him and give him a few more scars to remember him by. But he heard a horrible screaming sound and his head snapped to the side, eyes widening.

Starlingpaw was on the ground, blood seeping from an unseen injury at her head, and Ruffledpaw was standing over her, his eyes full of rage and fear. When he spotted Molepaw, his jaws parted in an unheard plea for help, and the dark tom raced over, tackling a tabby trying to get at the preoccupied apprentice. He snarled in the gray tom's face, and Ruffledpaw was only too happy to help him claw at the warrior's muzzle and sides. With a strangled yowl of pain, the tom writhed and wriggled free, starting to take off only to be stopped by Briarfang. He let out a terrified shriek, unable to dodge her deadly claws, and Molepaw felt grim satisfaction well in his blood as his mentor pinned the tom to teach him a proper lesson.

He turned back to where Ruffledpaw was nudging his sister. Molepaw could see a splash of blood on the rocky ground next to her, and could only guess that she'd been shoved down with enough force to knock her out… He gulped. It was just that, he hoped. He didn't think he would be able to even imagine the camp without Starlingpaw in it… He went to her side, nudging his way up under her limp form, and Ruffledpaw shot him a look of gratitude, turning to fight off another molly while they began to slowly make their way to the medicine den.

Mottledstar could be seen standing outside the den, his patchy fur bristled out as he fought side-by-side with Mistberry. The medicine cat was holding out surprisingly well, a jagged scar cutting across her face and fury in her eyes as she snapped at a small GoldClan apprentice. The two apprentices made it into the den and slowly laid Starlingpaw into a hastily-scraped together nest. The bleeding had stopped, or at least slowed; the blood was an ugly stain in her brown fur. Ruffledpaw pressed his nose into her fur, taking deep breaths as though he were imprinting her scent to his memory, and turned, rage blazing in his eyes. "I'll kill them!" he declared with a roar, charging out into the chaotic scene in the clearing. Molepaw lingered- should he stay to protect the cats in the den or go out to fight?

Mistberry decided for him, turning towards him from where the two elder cats had been fought back into the den. She snarled at him, practically shoving him into the apprentice, and the two tumbled outside in a flurry of claws and fur. Suddenly the smaller apprentice cried out and disentangled herself, speeding away towards the entrance of the camp. The rest of the invading warrior seemed to follow suit, leading the FeatherClan cats to stare around them in amazed confusion. The last of the skirmishes ended, Briarfang finally releasing the ash-gray tom he'd seen earlier to allow him to escape. Eagleclaw, having been out of sight for most of the fight, chased after a ginger she-cat, yowling obscenities after her as she exited camp. He turned back to his Clanmates, quickly organizing a patrol made up of himself, Spottedheart, Ivypaw, and Mudpaw to make sure the invaders didn't linger in the territory or try to make a return. He glanced over his Clanmates briefly before departing, and the Clan erupted into soft murmurs and cries of pain or fear.

Mottledstar was making his way through the cats, checking them over with Mistberry at his side. The panic started to die down as they slowly adjusted to proper wakefulness, or, in Ruffledpaw's case, crashed back into sleep. Molepaw felt a yawn tug at his jaws at the thought of the sudden soreness in his muscles and the leaden feel of his limbs, but he refused to sleep. He glanced around, trying to make sure everyone was okay. The only cats he couldn't find were Lightfoot and Thrushwing, and, despite himself, a fluttery feeling of worry pierced his heart. He moved out from where he was waiting his turn to be checked, hearing Briarfang protest. The objection wasn't enough to stop him- he saw the nursery and ran for it, ignoring the way the scratches in his chest stung with each movement.

Almost immediately he smelled blood, and his heart stopped beating altogether for what felt like an eternity as he moved numb paws further into the den. He could see the dark shape of his mother, hunched over and trembling. He felt sick when he realized that he couldn't hear the joyous squeaking of his kit siblings, and prayed to every cat in StarClan that they were just napping. His hope evaporated the moment his mother moved, a quiet sob tearing from her. He stopped, unsure if he wanted to see, but she seemed to sense him. Her yellow eyes seemed haunting in the gloom of the darkened den, and he padded forward, almost on impulse. He tried so hard not to look at the tiny body stretched out in the nest, ginger fur stained black with blood. Nettlekit was still as well, though he could see the slight rise and fall of her frail chest.

"They were going to kill her, too," Lightfoot choked out, sounding deeply burdened, and Molepaw's chest felt empty. He gently nudged at Flamekit's body, hating the fact that death clung to him like dew to leaves and hating that he hadn't even opened his eyes to see the world yet- His throat closed up and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Lightfoot let out another sob and he lifted his head to press his nose into her fur, trying to comfort her. Her tail wrapped around him, and it was like he was as young and defenseless as he had when he'd first been apprenticed. The two sat in still silence for a long while, before Molepaw moved. He felt as though he'd just woken from a very long sleep, his limbs heavy and sodden with tiredness. Lightfoot didn't open her eyes, just bent over her kits once more, quietly grieving.

He was just leaving the den, feeling like death was following him, when Thrushwing passed him, his eyes frantic and cobwebs clinging to his dark fur. Molepaw wanted to tell him, but it was like someone had shoved a stone into his throat. He couldn't breathe.

Seconds passed, long and awful and _waiting, _and a sharp wail of distress rang out. Molepaw sucked in a deep breath through his nose despite the feeling of being suffocated, and he turned to gladly bury his face in Ruffledpaw's pelt when his friend approached him, amber eyes still warm with sleep.

"It's not fair," he whispered, and the ginger tom didn't understand but he nodded and was silent and Molepaw had never been more grateful for anything in his entire life.

They turned to watch Thrushwing carrying Flamekit's body out of the nursery, and Ruffledpaw didn't comment on the fact that Molepaw was shaking, whether from grief or rage even he wasn't sure.


	9. Chapter Six

Molefoot stood outside of camp, occasionally shifting in an attempt at keeping his paws from freezing. He glanced up, catching Ruffledwing's eyes and looking away quickly. He wanted to be happy, he truly did, but the thought that the earth over Flamekit's grave was still fresh haunted his thoughts and the image of his little body, torn apart by a faceless and nameless warrior, was burned into his eyelids. He was having a hard time believing that it had really happened at all.

The day after the raid, when the Clan was still recovering from their losses, Mottledstar had decided to make the older apprentices warriors. Starlingpaw - she was Starlingfeather now- had been named while she was still unconscious, and her name had been chosen according to the belief that her odds of survival were low. Molefoot, Ruffledwing, and Starlingfeather. Briarfang had looked like she was crying, her normally mean-looking eyes hazy with emotion, and Snowtail had crept out of the medicine den to look distinguished and proud of Ruffledwing. Then he, Ruffledwing, and Gingerface had gone back to celebrate in grieving silence over Starlingfeather's still body. The dark-colored tom sighed from where he was holding vigil, his breath coming out to cloud against his muzzle, and Ruffledwing looked over to him, his tired eyes curious. If he weren't meant to be silent, Molefoot would have talked with Ruffedwing. As in, really talked, like they used to. He had so much to say, but, thinking again, maybe he didn't want to tell Ruffledwing these things. He was almost afraid of the other tom mistaking his weakness and need for a friend as... something more... and that scared him. So he flashed a look of cool 'okayness' at his friend, staring out into the forest.

It felt like frost was settling on his fur when he finally moved, his eyes feeling hollow and dry from lack of sleep. He could see the pale pinkness of the sun rising over the trees, and the muscles in his shoulders and back screamed at him to at least relax a little. He refused, wincing inwardly. He didn't move even after Ruffledwing broke from his similarly statue-like state, padding into the camp with his tail dragging along the ground. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. It was warming up, and he wished he could stay in this moment for a long time. He was numb and cold, but warming. He wished he had at least gotten to talk with his little brother, just once... And poor Ruffledwing, and Snowtail... Starlingfeather was alive but sleeping, and Molefoot didn't know if or when she'd wake up. It felt like the whole Clan was conjoined in some sort of mourning, and his chest swelled with the thought of it.

Briarfang came out to get him, and he reluctantly broke his still silence to follow her. The sun had risen, casting long shadows into the still-waking camp. Ruffledwing was nowhere to be seen, and Briarfang was quick to explain that he was in the medicine den when Molefoot inquired. He didn't ask further, already knowing. The Clan seemed subdued- Spottedheart was rousing Mudpaw and Ivypaw, who were dragging their paws behind her, and Eagleclaw tiredly gave out commands, his eyes showing his age. Thrushwing was taking the fattest piece of prey he could find on the pile to his still-grieving mate, and paused to brush against his surviving son with a look of affection and pride before continuing on his way.

Briarfang sat him down by the freshkill pile, nudging him towards a stagnant puddle. He parted his jaws, just noticing how dry his mouth was, and lapped at the water gratefully, ignoring the stale taste in favor of something wet in his throat. He glanced over, stomach protesting at the thought of even trying to eat the vole that his former mentor was placing beside him. But he obediently took a bite, the meat tasting like bile against his tongue. He swallowed, pushing the rest of the tiny animal towards her. She frowned, but finished it off. "Molefoot," she started, and he shook his head. He wasn't ready to hear this- he knew what she would say. She'd relate to her own experiences of losing her children, and she'd tell him that it would get better. He didn't want to hear that- he wanted to wallow in the raw pain for a while. He wanted to be angry and he wanted vengeance for the tiny scrap of fur that had never gotten a chance at life. Molefoot refused to let Briarfang help him or speak to him, instead choosing to drag his paws towards the apprentice's den, only to remember that he didn't sleep there anymore. He felt even more tired at the thought of having to collect moss for a new nest, simply collecting the nesting materials from the apprentice's den and moving them to the warrior's den. He curled up, the drying pieces of moss tickling his nose, and fell asleep, his dreams dark and empty.

Eagleclaw looked grim, his tail swishing as he padded ahead of them. Molefoot kept low, instinctively shrinking back when they reached the GoldClan border. The anger in his gut kept him padding forward, hatred glinting in his eyes. Ruffledwing padded beside him, long fur just barely brushing his, but Molefoot didn't think about it. He was focused, intent on his goal.

GoldClan wouldn't expect an attack so soon after raiding FeatherClan, especially since it was the night before the Gathering. The nearly-full moon shone down on them, lighting their path through the forest with cool blue light. Snowtail was almost glowing from where he was padding between Spottedheart and Briarfang. Practically all of the warrors in camp were going- just Gingerface, Thrushwing, Ivypaw, Mudpaw, and Lightfoot remained in camp to take care of the remaining kit and Starlingfeather. And, of course, Mistberry. Even Mottledstar, old and frail, was with them, his eyes determined and his tail held high. FeatherClan would show them exactly who lead the forest.

Molefoot thought he scented something amongst the leaves, but ignored it. It had smelled like Frost, but even the thought of her now made him angrier. He shouldn't have wasted so much time thinking about her. If he hadn't, Flamekit might have lived... Though, he knew it was silly, he chose to believe that.

Mottledstar raised his tail up high, turning to them with a serious frown. "The camp is through here," he said, his voice quiet. "There are usually two guards- Eagleclaw and I can handle them. Snowtail, I want you, Briarfang, and Ruffledwing to wait outside, and see if you can find an alternative way in. If any of them try to run, you catch them and teach them a lesson, hm?" Then he took a breath. "Stay away from the nursery. Enough young blood has been shed." Then he turned, heading off through the brush.

The rest of the patrol waited until Spottedheart - who was watching the leader and deputy- gave them the okay. Snowtail's party obediently waited behind; Molefoot heard them spread out after a moment. Mottledstar was holding a small gray tabby down beside the entrance to the camp, his muzzle stained red as he kept the tom from crying out for his Clan's help. Eagleclaw was in a similar position with a tom Molefoot half-recognized as Birdwing. Immediate disgust clouded his mind. He didn't want to know any of them. GoldClan was as surprised as had been planned, the FeatherClan cats setting upon them quietly and furiously, like a sudden storm. Molefoot leaped at the first cat he saw, a ginger-and-white tom, snarling. The cat beneath him yelped, startled and panicked, and the warrior dug his claws into his sides, feeling grim satisfaction when there was a resulting cry. Within moments, the entire Clan knew they were there, and there were high-pitched shrieks of outrage and fear. The one queen he saw was backing far into the little hollow they used for a nursery, her amber eyes stretched wide.

Molefoot released the tom beneath him, turning to attack the cat he felt at his back and stopping when he recognized Cherryfur, her blind green eyes full of fury. He moved out of her way, allowing her to pass and fall on Oakwhisker, who was trying to pull Spottedheart off of a skinny apprentice. He watched her gouge deep scars into his shoulders for a heartbeat, then snarled, tackling a ginger she-cat who was rushing to help. She turned with flailing claws to attack him, but he kept her pressed, chest-down, to the ground, raking his claws down her sides until she howled in agony. The smell of blood drifted to his nose and he felt a small thrill in his veins, grunting when the she-cat pushed him off and set upon him, her eyes wild with pain and anger. They tussled for a long moment before she broke away, panting. Molefoot yowled after her as she ran, and he hoped that Briarfang got her, cursing her for the sharp pain he felt in his shoulder.

A cat crashed into him, and he whirled, sinking his teeth into gray-and-white fur. He heard a high-pitched cry of pain, the voice warbled and annoying, and satisfaction surged in his blood. Dovepaw writhed under him, her yellow eyes full of hatred and her claws stinging as they scpred his shoulders and sides. He growled, releasing his hold on her shoulder to engage her, rearing up on his hind legs to crash down on her with his full weight. Dovepaw rolled out of the way, and he grabbed her by the tail, the thick fur of her tail nearly choking him. She shrieked and turned, swinging her claws at his face. Blood sprayed into his eyes and he howled, stepping back. She saw her chance and jumped at him, latching onto his scruff and scrabbling for a hold on his shoulders. Molefoot felt fur against him and jerked back, hearing Snowtail helping Cherryfur rather than seeing him. The weight on his back and the sting of teeth in his scruff forced him to roll, crushing the apprentice under him. He heard a light grunt of pain, but didn't get up until she let go of his neck. When she did, he turned, pinning her. "I bet it was you," he snarled, and Dovepaw looked up, dazed fear and anger on her face. Molefoot dug his claws into her chest, and she screamed. "You took him," he snarled in emphasis, tail lashing. He'd heard her there, heard that stupid annoying voice outside the apprentice's den that night. There was no dout, none. The chaos around him seemed to slow down, until Dovepaw was all he could see. He blinked the blood out of his eye, ignoring the thick irritation in favor of leaning forward, until he could feel her rough, uneven panting against his muzzle. "Filth like you don't deserve to live."

The dark warrior opened his jaws wide, then sank his fangs deep into the younger she-cat's throat. Dovepaw let out a garbled cry of shock, her back claws scrabbling against his chest. Fiery pain lit up his nerves but he didn't let go, blood fitting his mouth. The tabby struggled for several moments beneath him before falling still. Even then he didn't let go, his voice gurgling out around her blood, until he knew she was dead. Then he stepped back, spitting out the thick, salty liquid in his mouth. Her eyes were open wide and staring up at the sky, glazed. Her mouth was still open and set in a snarl, or maybe a cry of pain. Molefoot felt a sharp, cold thrill run through him, looking at the apprentice dead at his feet. The knowledge that she had been living just moments ago surged through him, leaving a strange sort of power in his blood, and he tilted his head back, letting out a fierce, savage cry.

His heart felt sated, but he couldn't relax just yet. He turned, leaping back into the heart of the battle. His Clan still needed him.


	10. Allegiances (3)

**F. E. A. T. H. E. R. C. L. A. N.**

**Leader:**

Mottledstar – Old black-and-ginger spotted chimera tom with amber eyes.

**Deputy:**

Eagleclaw – Big brown-and-white tom with yellow eyes.  
>(apprentice: Ivypaw)<p>

**Medicine cat:**

Mistberry – Frail gray she-cat with green eyes.

**Warriors:**

Briarfang – Big brown tabby she-cat with scars stretching across her face and flanks.

Snowtail – White tom with pale blue eyes.

Gingerface – Beautiful ginger-and-white she-cat with green eyes.

Spottedheart – Spotted brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes.  
>(apprentice: Mudpaw)<p>

Thrushwing – Dark brown tom with amber eyes.

Cherryfur – Tortoiseshell she-cat with blind green eyes.

Starlingfeather – Dark brown tabby she-cat with a cream-colored chest and paws. Amber eyes.

Ruffledwing – Long-furred ginger tom with amber eyes.

Molefoot – Brown tom with a white tail-tip and yellow eyes.

**Apprentices:**

Mudpaw – Black-and-white tom with amber eyes.

Ivypaw – Brown-and-white tabby she-cat with green eyes.

**Queens:**

Lightfoot – Pale ginger she-cat with yellow eyes.  
>Nettlekit - Light brown tabby she-kit.<p>

**G. O. L. D. C. L. A. N.**

**Leader:**

Goldstar – Fluffy black she-cat with golden eyes.

**Deputy:**

Pineclaw – Brown tabby tom with very long claws.

**Medicine cat:**

Rushfeather – Ginger tabby tom with golden eyes.

(apprentice: Tansyfur)

**Warriors:**

Hollybreeze – Ginger she-cat with green eyes.

Emberspots – Gray tom with darker gray flecks.

Runningstep – Black tom with long legs and green eyes.

(apprentice: Fisherpaw)

Daisyface – Fluffy ginger-and-white trans she-cat with green eyes.

Acornfur – Dark brown tom with gray eyes.

Coppertail – White trans she-cat with ginger ears and tail. Heterochromatic golden-blue eyes.

Berrytail – Cream-and-brown tom with gray-green eyes.

Birdwing – Blue-gray tabby tom with yellow eyes.

**Queens:**

Ashclaw – Gray tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

**Apprentices:**

Fisherpaw – Very pale gray tom.

Tansyfur – Golden tabby she-cat with blue eyes.

**C . A. T. S. O. U. T. S. I. D. E. C. L. A. N. S.**

Aspen – Short gray tabby trans tom with brown eyes.

Frost – Fluffy gray she-cat with a white blaze and forepaw and blue eyes.

Harriet – Long-furred brown tabby kittypet with blue eyes.

Mayfly – Brown-and-white tabby she-cat with blue eyes.


	11. Chapter Seven

Molefoot waited outside the medicine cat's den anxiously. There was a buzz of voices inside- Starlingfeather had woken up while they were returning from the raid. Gingerface had met them outside camp, her eyes shining with happiness, and Ruffledwing and Snowtail had immediately rushed to her side to explain all that had happened in the three days she'd been sleeping. Molefoot had tried to follow, but received a cuff over the ear from Mistberry, who complained that her den "was not big enough for so many idiots at once". So he waited outside, tail swishing impatiently.

Finally Gingerface padded out, and she looked so happy that Molefoot felt infected by it. He jumped to his paws and she purred in amusement. "She's fine," she murmured, and he felt himself sag in relief. "Just a bit of pain in her head, but she's fine. Mistberry wants her to spend the next moon in here just in case, though. Apparently it's really common for head injuries to turn into something much worse..."

Molefoot nodded. At least Starlingfeather was alive. He shuddered to think of what would happen if FeatherClan were to lose her, too.

Finally he was given confirmation that he could see her, and Molefoot padded into the den, shrinking away from Mistberry and hurrying to Ruffledwing's side. The ginger warrior looked tired- he hadn't slept since the raid- and lifted his head to purr at his friend in a croaky, dry voice. Starlingfeather's eyes were gentle as she looked over the two toms, and Molefoot softened, seeing her. She was okay. He again felt a rush of jealousy for Snowtail, who had reluctantly stepped outside to speak with Gingerface. He would love to have the injured tabby look at _him _like that.

"How did everything go?" Starlingfeather's voice broke him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, and her tail curled in amusement. "Uh, it went well. We're going to find out how everything went at the Gathering tonight." he added, and she nodded. She moved and winced, and Ruffledwing immediately jolted to attention, fussing over her. She scowled at him, practically demanding that he step back.  
>Molefoot purred in amusement, glad to see that she was already relatively back to normal.<p>

He could only stay another moment before Mistberry shooed both him and Ruffledwing out of the den to give the poor she-cat some rest.

Snowtail looked like he wanted to brave the gray medicine cat's wrath to go back to Starlingfeather, but a quick word of advice from Gingerface had him scowling and pacing in front of the den. Molefoot laughed, rolling his eyes at his fellow warrior's antics before turning to pad across the clearing.  
>Lightfoot was playing with Nettlekit outside the nursery, but her eyes still looked haunted. He felt a flash of pity for her, but knew he couldn't say anything to better her grief. Thrushwing was doing everything in his power to comfort her, but it only ended up in both parents looking run-down and unhappy… Molefoot shivered, remembering the feeling of Dovepaw's blood under his claws. Whenever he groomed he could still taste the salt on his paw pads and he was reminded of his satisfaction. He definitely counted the forest as being much safer without the GoldClan apprentice in it.<p>

He walked over to sit by Briarfang once again, wincing at the sharp tang of crushed marigold in her fur. She gave him a look of irritation, features softening when she realized it was her old apprentice.  
>"How are your wounds?" he asked lightly, and she grunted. "Stiff. Irritating. You've got a pretty bad nick in your ear, too. Feel like a seasoned warrior yet?" she asked, her voice gruff. He laughed, shaking his head. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the sharp thrill of battle. He couldn't even decide if he liked it yet, though he'd never say that out loud. None of the FeatherClan cats genuinely enjoyed their trysts with their adversaries… Would it be strange to say he did?<p>

"You'll get the hang of it soon. I'll be surprised if those cowards don't stage another invasion tonight while we're at the Gathering," Briarfang was hissing, her claws digging into the ground. Molefoot's surprise was bitter. He honestly wouldn't put it past Goldstar, no matter how highly the rest of the Clan seemed to think of her. "Do you think Mottledstar will leave most of the warriors here?" he asked, and her eyes grew dark and clouded with distrust.

"Not sure. They could very well try to fight us at the Gathering," she meowed, and he shook his head. "They wouldn't, would they? Even they believe in the warrior code and StarClan, right?" he asked, and she shook her head.  
>"Plenty sure they do. But if there's one thing GoldClan cats hate, it's being wronged."<br>"Even though they attacked us first? Even though they murdered Flamekit in cold blood?"

"Yep, even then."

Molefoot shook out his fur, padding out of the warrior's den with a wide-stretching yawn as Eagleclaw yowled for the cats chosen to go to the Gathering to gather in the clearing. Mottledstar looked tiny next to his deputy as he picked out warriors to go- Spottedheart, Thrushwing, and Ruffledwing padded forward. Molefoot noticed that his friend looked much better now, well-rested and groomed and with shining eyes. He walked up to join them as his name was called, tail swishing.  
>He could feel the anxiety in the assembled cats' fur- Thrushwing pressed his muzzle to Lightfoot's with a mournful look in his eyes, and Ruffledwing continuously glanced back at the medicine cat's den, where Snowtail was being lectured by Mistberry. The old medicine cat was coming along as well, wanting to talk with her old friend Rushfeather and his apprentice, Tansyfur, and she didn't want Starlingfeather to be without help. Snowtail, of course, immediately volunteered to help, much to Ruffledwing's disdain…<p>

Mottledstar was talking in a hushed voice with Eagleclaw, his tail drooping low, and Molefoot briefly wondered what they were talking about. He never got the chance to ask- the patchy tom's tail raised, and he took off with all the agility and grace of a cat many moons younger.

Moonlight laid faux tabby stripes against his fur as he padded beside Thrushwing, who was decidedly quiet. Molefoot almost thought to try to scare him, just to rouse some sort of reaction, but he was somewhat frightened of receiving no reaction at all. His father's apathy was far more frightful than his anger, though that was a force to be reckoned with as well. He looked up ahead, where Mistberry was loudly complaining to Mottledstar that she didn't have any young cats to apprentice. He would have been repelled, noticing how she brushed against him affectionately, if he didn't know that they were siblings.

The leader snorted, turning to look at her with shining eyes. "That sour attitude of yours drives all your prospective apprentices away," he meowed, and she rolled her eyes, huffing. "If they can't handle my crankiness then they sure as thistles won't be able to handle a greencough epidemic!" she shot back, and Molefoot thought that her good mood had lasted far longer than usual. Maybe it was from being around her reclusive brother?

The small group of cats grew very quiet when they drew near the Gathering place, and Mottledstar's tail flicked. Immediately, Eagleclaw padded up beside him, and Mistberry fell back, their faces stoic. Ruffledwing cast a nervous look over to Molefoot, who took a deep breath.

The moment he set paw in the clearing, the dark tom could feel the animosity directed towards them. If they had been talking before, the assembled GoldClan cats were silent now, glaring at them with hateful, untrusting eyes. Molefoot gulped, realizing that they were outnumbered by several GoldClan warriors, still bearing scars from his Clan's attack. In spite of himself, he felt the fur on his spine bristling.

Mottledstar padded through the clearing with all the dignity of a cat ordained by StarClan, Eagleclaw padding after him. He left his deputy at the foot of one of the great boulders the leaders used to address the Clans, scrambling to the top. Goldstar remained in her position, her eyes narrowed with contempt as she watched her rival struggle. After the patch-pelted tom reached the top and regained his breath, Goldstar turned back to the Clans, who were clearly divided, several tail lengths between them. Mottledstar chuckled, the sound audible from the clearing full of silent cats.  
>Tension prickled amongst them- Molefoot absently looked for any cat he knew on the GoldClan side. He recognized Coppertail, the molly's shoulder still bearing nasty scars. The dual-colored eyes of the warrior landed on him, noticing him watching, and she hissed. He quickly averted his gaze.<p>

He turned to Ruffledwing, who had drawn up close to him, his eyes guarded. "Was the last Gathering this tense?" he asked in a whisper, and the ginger tom shook his head. Then reconsidered.  
>"Well, it was tense, but definitely not this bad…"<br>Even Mistberry had stayed in her place, her eyes on Rushfeather's back as he pointedly ignored her. Tansyfur was sharing an apologetic glance with her, but a hiss from her mentor and she turned to face the leaders.

After several moments of little to no interaction of their Clans, Goldstar cleared her throat. "Let's begin then, hm?" she started, her voice old and rich with age. Mottledstar nodded, and they settled into their rhythm, though the tension remained.

"StarClan welcomed two brave warriors some nights ago," Goldstar began, and it felt like the entirety of her Clan was looking at him. His blood was hot, and he shifted, noticing the dirt sticking to his damp pads. Did they know?  
>"Dovepaw was well on her way to becoming a strong warrior, and we will miss her dearly. Oakwhisker served the Clan for many long moons, and he will be missed as well. Particularly by his mate," the word was spat out, as though to injure the FeatherClan cats down below. Molefoot felt a bit upset at that- Oakwhisker had been a good cat, considering his Clan heritage… He was unhappy to find that he was dead.<p>

Goldstar went on, "The prey is running low, but that is a given for leaf bare." She glanced at Mottledstar almost meaningfully, and then meowed a few more quick words before giving him his place to speak.

Molefoot felt the tension rising, restlessness in the GoldClan ranks as his leader spoke. He shot a glare at the cat speaking, receiving a snarl in return. Mottledstar gave a responding growl, effectively silencing them, before continuing. He spoke little of Flamekit's death, much to Molefoot's chagrin, but the grateful look Thrushwing had on his face explained a different story. He still couldn't believe that his parents didn't want revenge for his brother's death…

It wasn't long before a quiet murmur began again, and Mottledstar's old voice strained as he yowled for quiet. He turned to plead with Goldstar to silence her Clan, but she had already shut him out, her eyes on the clearing. With a sigh, Mottledstar finished his monologue, making to jump down from the boulder.

Goldstar moved then, holding up her tail for silence. Immediately, the GoldClan cats ceased chattering. Molefoot felt resentment well in him at that; Mottledstar was just as prestigious, and should have gotten the same respect…  
>"Mottledstar, GoldClan has something to say to FeatherClan," she meowed, and her voice was loud enough to carry across the clearing to all the gathered cats.<p>

"Since our Clan is far bigger than yours, we request more territory."

Instantly, the FeatherClan cats sprang to their paws. Molefoot's lips drew back in an involuntary snarl. Spottedheart yowled an insult at the fluffy she-cat, but it was brushed off. Mottledstar, looking pained, raised his tail for quiet, looking degraded when it wasn't given.  
>Molefoot heard snickering from the GoldClan cats, and bristled, turning to hiss at them, "You think this is a joke?!" with his tail lashing furiously.<p>

Eagleclaw finally yowled, "Enough!", turning the Clans' focus to the leaders. Mottledstar inhaled deeply, then turned to his counterpart.  
>"We will not give you any more land, Goldstar. Your cats have had enough in the past, when both Clans were much bigger. You can surely make do this leaf bare as well?"<br>The she-cat's face grew angrier with each passing word, and she snarled. "No! Obviously we're going to starve!" she exploded, and the FeatherClan group started up again.

"She's trying to drive us out!" Ruffledwing cried, and Thrushwing's eyes were blazing. "Don't give in, Mottledstar!" he yowled, and the rest of the small group echoed similar sentiments.

Molefoot's claws dug into the dried grass under his paws as GoldClan turned on them. His heart hammered in his ears as accusations were flung across the clearing. It seemed like war would break out, Coppertail's jaws parted and teeth gleaming in the moonlight as she glared at him.

"No, you won't, you've got-"

"Excuse me!"

There was a cry of alarm as a large gray blur streaked through the clearing, launching itself up to the boulders before Eagleclaw and Pineclaw could even blink.

Molefoot's heart sank, cold in his paws, when he recognized those blue eyes that now stared contemptuously down at the cats in the clearing. He just knew that Frost was going to get herself killed.


	12. Chapter Eight

Moonlight rippled over Frost's gray pelt, the smooth current of her fur broken with scars. Molefoot stared, his eyes wide as he watched her. All the other cats in the clearing had frozen, all eyes on her.

Even Goldstar and Mottledstar were quiet, appraising her with startled expressions. No cat had ever dared to interrupt a Gathering like this.  
>All the cats were so startled by Frost's appearance that they barely noticed a second she-cat slip in, a similarly scarred silver tabby. Molefoot tore his eyes away from the silvery cat on the boulder long enough to notice the second cat take her place near the deputies, her amber eyes on Frost. Molefoot's heart skipped when he realized that look- it was the look of a <em>follower.<em>

Mottledstar recovered himself first, sputtering, "Who are you?" The gray she-cat's long tail waved behind her. Molefoot could barely recognize her from the kit he'd first seen on the outskirts of the territory. She looked much older, wiser, and stronger.  
>"My name is Frost," she spoke, and her voice was full of power. Ruffledwing, beside him, let out a breath and pressed into him to catch his attention.<br>"That's the she-cat that attacked me all those moons ago," he hissed under his breath, and Molefoot nodded. He remembered. He'd forgotten all about trying to meet with Frost… Maybe he'd have been able to stop…_ this_. Whatever _this_ was.

"I'm moving into the mountain to start my own Clan, and we're going to make a camp on the mountain," Frost was saying, and at these words the rest of the Clan cats started to murmur, objections starting to present themselves.

"No cat can live on the mountain!" Spottedheart suddenly called, and, to Molefoot's surprise, Coppertail and several other GoldClan warriors yowled in agreement. Frost's eyes glittered with amusement, and she looked down at the tabby, who glanced up at her. "Aspen here has lived on the mountain for many moons, and he's taught me how to hunt there," she meowed, and the objections fell quiet. Aspen ducked his (her?) head in embarrassment at the dozens of sets of eyes suddenly on him, tail curling over his paws. "Our Clan will be a welcome place for everyone, we'll make sure that the forest is in balance again!"

Then Goldstar spoke up, standing. Her age only showed through when she shook a bit as she walked- she was a bit older than Mottledstar, though it didn't often seem like it.  
>"Does that mean you're going to be taking prey from the rest of us? And what do you mean, 'in balance'? You think we have a problem here?" she asked, eyes flashing dangerously, and Molefoot swallowed nervously, looking to Frost for her answer.<p>

The much younger cat shook her head, about to open her mouth to speak, but Mottledstar croaked, "How will you ever feed a Clan? The mountain territory is split between us, anyway!" The cats below started murmuring to themselves again. This wasn't a big thing, it was just some flea-brained loner getting ideas into her head…  
>But Molefoot knew she was serious. He could see that in the set of her broad shoulders and the way her eyes glinted with annoyance at all the questions.<p>

"We can teach them to hunt on the mountain. It isn't that difficult, if you're not a coward," she said, and there seemed to be a hint of challenge in her voice. At the second part she scoffed, turning to face the mountain she apparently called home now. "There aren't any scent markers, and there's no reason for any of your patrols to reach up there, since 'you can't hunt there'." Her voice rose in a mockery of Spottedheart's initial outcry, and Molefoot heard the tabby huff near him. "And yes, there is a problem here!" she said, and Goldstar visibly bristled.  
>"Two Clans apparently cannot coexist without a mediator between them!"<br>Goldstar and Mottledstar both hissed at that, their fur fluffing up and lips curling back to reveal fangs, yellowed with age but still sharp and dangerous.  
>Frost raised her tail, seeming to ignore them as she strode forward with an almost urgent expression.<p>

"Anyone who wishes to join us will be able. We won't turn anyone away," she added, then motioned to Aspen. Both cats dipped their heads, as though thanking them for listening, then turned. Frost leapt off the boulder with ease, landing next to what seemed to be her deputy. Then they both took off, gone as suddenly as they had appeared.

The Clans were silent for just a second. Then chatter exploded out of them.  
>"She's crazy," Molefoot heard Thrushwing cry near him, and felt Spottedheart nod in agreement. The GoldClan cats had let down their guard, looking curiously amused as they talked amongst themselves. Rushfeather seemed to have forgotten his feud with Mistberry, and he was talking to her with wide eyes, golden-striped tail waving excitedly. He heard part of their conversation, something along the lines of "arrogant youngsters, thinking they can just change the forest!" and "who does she think she is, telling Goldstar and Mottledstar that there have to be three Clans?"<br>Mottledstar called for silence, but the Clans wouldn't hear it. Goldstar didn't even try, looking mildly confused herself. She even leaned over to mutter something to the FeatherClan leader, her ears flattening and claws glinting against the pale stone she stood on.

Molefoot started trying to slip out of the throng of cats, glancing up to make sure Eagleclaw didn't see him. Ruffledwing looked at him curiously, but he shook his head, mouthing 'I'll explain later' to the ginger tom as he slipped past his father and Coppertail, who were talking about the strange event, their voices hushed. _At least Frost's appearance caused some good…_ he thought, looking back to see the GoldClan and FeatherClan cats mingling now.

He managed to slip away, hoping that he hadn't been seen. Then he took off, stretching out to run after Frost and Aspen, following their scent through the undergrowth. They'd started towards the mountain already… He didn't want to get caught up there, he didn't know how long he'd be able to survive.

Molefoot stopped at the foot of the mountain, panting slightly. The chilly air burned his lungs and he breathed it in in great heaves. His whiskers twitched as he looked around. He almost felt like he could still hear the faint murmur of the Gathering from here…  
>His ear switched back at the sound of a twig snapping, and he turned, face setting into a cautious scowl-who was it, had he been caught?<br>But Frost stepped out of the bushes, shrugging some dry twigs out of her thick fur. She blinked in surprise when she saw him, and her mouth opened, as if she were going to speak. He saw the flash of recognition in her eyes and felt a flush of pleasure.

"Who are you again? I mean, your name?" she asked, and his hopes were crushed.  
>Molefoot sighed. "It's me, Molepaw! Well," he trailed off awkwardly. "Molefoot now."<p>

"They changed your name again? That's kinda lame," she mewed, and he puffed up. "It's my warrior name! I earned it in battle!"  
>She snorted. "Like that one that almost happened back there at your little 'Gathering' or whatever?" Aspen laughed, coming out of the bushed behind Frost. "Don't be too hard on him. You were the one who interrupted a big part of his life, you know." Molefoot instantly bristled, backing away from the new cat.<p>

Frost noticed his hesitance and purred. She pushed up against Aspen, almost dwarfing him, and Molefoot was suddenly thrown into the reality that _Frost was almost twice his size. _His tail swished uncomfortably; she could kill him if she wanted to. The thought startled him. He was a warrior now, had survived several battles… And he was reverent of Frost, the crazy loner she-cat who never took the hint to actually leave?

"This is Aspen. I told you you'd get to meet him," she said, and her voice held such warmth that Molefoot almost felt jealous. The tabby tipped his head to the brown warrior, but didn't pay him much mind, instead turning to Frost. He had to reach up on his toes to speak to her to where the FeatherClanner couldn't hear, but the she-cat just shook her head.

"I'll meet you back at the camp, I want to talk to him for a second since he took the trouble of following us out here." Then she looked him over, an impressed look flitting through her eyes. Molefoot's fur heated; he felt like they were talking about him as though he didn't exist. "Despite the fact that he got here first." Aspen licked her shoulder respectfully and nodded, glancing at Molefoot as he passed. When he was close he murmured, "Frost thinks pretty highly of you, you know," before padding up the steep slope leading to the mountain. The praise took a moment to process, but Molefoot dipped his head in acknowledgement, seeing the way Frost's eyes twinkled at the move.

The large she-cat padded over to him, looking him over. She pressed her nose to the cut in his ear and he jumped back, startled. She tilted her head. "You're a lot more scarred than I remembered you." She meowed, and he shrugged. "Well you are too, so…"

She laughed at that, seeming jovial. "I suppose so. I think those cats were… GoldClan cats? Right?" She looked to him for confirmation and when he nodded she continued, "They keep really rigid patrols. They like to run after me, too," she added, motioning to a thick scar stretching down her flank. Molefoot winced in sympathy, and she shrugged. "It wasn't too bad. Aspen knows a few herbs, so he patched me up…"

The words stirred his memory, and Molefoot was suddenly all business again, standing. The gray she-cat at his side blinked, her fluffy tail curling into a little curious loop.

"A few moons ago," he began, and she tilted her head. "A few moons ago there was an apprentice who wandered up around here. He had ginger fur… You attacked him," he added, and Frost's face lit up, as though she remembered.

She sauntered to the side, and he watched the muscles moving under her thick fur with some sense of awe, remembering when she still had fluffy kit fur. "I remember that! He was really rude," she mewed, and he couldn't help but agree. Ruffledwing wasn't… not rude, that was for sure.

"Yeah, but why did you attack him? And Ivypaw? They were defending their territory! Our territory," he quickly corrected, and Frost shrugged. "He attacked me first, so I made sure to knock some sense into him. And then _she_ tried to jump on Aspen for trying to talk things out, he doesn't like fighting…" The she-cat's tone changed then, dropping to an icy pitch. He saw sharp black claws dig into the moss under their paws and unconsciously stepped back.  
>"Ah, I see."<p>

She looked up, eyes like ice shards, and his belly fluttered. "So you're really close to Aspen then?"  
>Frost's eyes softened slightly, and she nodded jerkily. "Mm. He saved my life," she let on, and finally relaxed. "I owe it to him to return the favor," she murmured, and Molefoot tilted his head. He'd never heard of owing something to someone. Cats just… did stuff.<p>

"And you and her-him- are making a Clan now?" he asked. Frost nodded, not seeming to mind his slip up. "Yeah. A cat came to me in my dreams and told me to," she meowed, looking down at her paws.  
>Molefoot blinked. He'd never heard of a loner who'd had dreams of StarClan. It was rare for even a medicine cat, the closest link to their warrior ancestors, to receive a message nowadays. He brushed it off- maybe she had hallucinated something? He'd heard of that happening before… Not often, but enough to be heard about.<p>

"Uh huh… And what are you going to call this Clan?" he asked, playing along. Frost shrugged. "I don't know. FrostClan, I guess," she mewed, and he laughed. "Conceited, don't you think?"

"Not really. I mean, GoldClan is run by Goldstar right? And it's not like you just make a Clan every day, I don't just have names lying around," she said bluntly, and he couldn't help but laugh harder.

"And who all's in this 'Clan' of yours?" he asked, amused. Frost started to answer, then paused, her ears twitching. She looked at him, eyes bright. "You should come see the camp some time! Aspen and I are still shaping it up, but for you I'll make a special exception." She turned, and Molefoot opened his mouth to protest. Then he heard Ruffledwing's voice, calling his name from deeper in the woods.

"I'm coming!" he called back to his friend, and he turned to add something to Frost, but she was already gone, her scent fading with the wind.


	13. Chapter Nine

"I'm telling you, Ruffledwing," Molefoot hissed, his voice low to avoid detection from the rest of the patrol. His friend glared at him, waving Ivypaw away when she bounced up to talk to him and show him the mouse she'd caught. Molefoot tried to ignore the little she-cat's hurt expression, mewing for her to go show her prey to Eagleclaw before turning to his friend again.

"Frost isn't a bad cat, she's just…" He paused, and Ruffledwing shot him an impatient, pressing look. _Well she's not a total idiot. She does have whatever it is planned out, I think…_

"She's a menace," his friend declared, and Molefoot couldn't help but feel anger prickling at the tips of his fur. Frost wasn't dangerous- not to the Clans, at least. Maybe to individuals. Like Ruffledwing.

"She is not! She's just misguided, is all. Look, I doubt StarClan would give her any lives should her Clan thing work out, so she's honestly not a threat," the brown warrior said, an edge of confidence in his voice. No matter how good a cat Frost was, the idea of a new Clan was just… Frankly, ridiculous.

Molefoot couldn't see it ever getting off the ground, not to mention that he still firmly believed no cat could survive on the mountain without help. When he used to eavesdrop on Eagleclaw and Mottledstar as an apprentice, he'd heard them complaining about their positions too.

Even if it was light-hearted, the two toms clearly stressed over their work and the toll that came with it.

The ginger tom at his side sighed impatiently. They were edging away from the group now, Eagleclaw and Ivypaw far ahead of them. Ruffledwing's voice was just below his normal volume when he spoke next. "I don't know, Molefoot. I saw a couple of cats get starry-eyed when she got up there," he gruffed, and Molefoot blinked. Ruffledwing turned to him, eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. "You were one of them, so I should know."

His heart froze, though Molefoot knew perfectly well that it had no reason to. His pads sweat anxiously. He had only been amazed at seeing Frost all grown-up. Not any other reason. None.

"I-I was just surprised, I wasn't starry-eyed in the least," he said, his voice sounding faraway and false to his own ears.

Ruffledwing snorted, glancing ahead to see if Eagleclaw was out of sight before starting, "You've always been a terrible liar, Mole."

The shortened version of his name made his fur prickle uneasily when said by his friend; he almost felt sick. He stepped away slightly, hoping Ruffledwing took his raised lip as a scowl of irritation rather than disgust.

"I'm not lying. It was surprising," he said roughly, turning away when his friend tried to move to face him.

Ruffledwing looked like he was about to say something, but froze, his ears perking up. Molefoot heard the loud crashing in the undergrowth almost a second later, someone coming towards them. They were upwind, he couldn't tell who it was, but with the way whoever it was flailed through the prickly briars and dead leaves they were not from FeatherClan.

Ruffledwing had drawn back, his curly fur bristling along his spine, and Molefoot reacted much the same, his claws digging anxiously into the ground while they waited for whoever (or whatever) it was to crash out of the underbrush at them.

It took several heartbeats, but finally a small-ish brown tabby she-cat burst out, her blue eyes wide and her fur bristling. A long scratch, still lightly bleeding, stretched across her nose and cheeks. She looked like she'd been running for a while, and the cut was probably from a stray thorn… But still, Molefoot bowed up further, his spine so tense he thought it might snap. The she-cat opened her mouth and Ruffledwing snarled, silencing her. When he made to flee, the ginger tom stepped in her path, big and intimidating. She cowered before them; Molefoot could see her shaking.

His eyes were narrowed and sharp as yellow flint when he spat the question, "Who are you and why are you on FeatherClan territory?"

The she-cat turned wide blue eyes on him, her ears swiveled towards Ruffledwing as though to keep tabs on him.

"My name is M-Mayfly, and I'm l-looking for someone!" she said, her voice high-pitched with fear. Her tail curled around to her side protectively, her dainty white paws stained with mud.

Ruffledwing scoffed and Molefoot's ears flicked. "Who could _possibly_ be worth intruding on Clan cat territory for?" he demanded, and she shrank away from the abrasive tone.

She looked as soft as a kittypet and he wouldn't doubt that she wasn't one. Probably one of those idealistic pudgeballs who thought they could fall in love with a Clan cat or some nonsense. GoldClan may allow that, but FeatherClan sure as stars wouldn't.

"Get back to your twolegs, runt," Ruffledwing snarled, tail disturbing some of the leaves behind him when it lashed. The noise scared the she-cat further, her chin now resting on her paws.

"But I'm l-looking for someone!" she objected, her voice suddenly loud. Molefoot winced and his friend growled again, looking ready to claw the foolish cat's ears.

"S-someone sent me t-to look for someone! S-someone named Molepaw!" she squeaked, cowering when Ruffledwing lunged at her. The ginger tom stopped himself mid-pounce, falling awkwardly to the side but quickly recovering. Molefoot's heart sank when narrowed amber eyes landed on him.

He quickly strode to Mayfly's side, easily pushing her over and onto her side. The she-cat's fur was luxuriously soft, and she struggled under the weight of his paw on her throat, legs curling in as though to protect her belly.

The brown warrior lowered his face until he could feel her labored breath against his whiskers. "Who sent you?" he asked in a sharp hiss, and she stammered for several moments, squealing as the paw was pressed harder into her throat.

For one moment Molefoot considered sinking his claws into her and watching her bleed out over the forest floor, but then she spoke again, her eyes bluer than the cloudless sky above and painfully earnest as she rasped out, "Frost."

Instantly Molefoot stiffened, bloodlust draining from his veins. Why would Frost send for him? Why would she send some other cat to talk to him? Why not Aspen, then? Had something happened?

His mind swam with questions and before he knew it Mayfly was no longer under his paws, him having taken several steps back. He didn't bother to glance at Ruffledwing.

"Why?" he breathed, and Mayfly scrambled to her previous position, crouched in front of him.

"I found her in the woods, she n-needed help, she told me to find a Molepaw cat in the wild territory-"

He cut her off by raising his tail, resolve now burning in his heart.

"I'm Molepaw. Molefoot," he corrected, and the look of relief that flooded the she-cat's face was enough to make guilt at his earlier thoughts sink sharp claws in his belly.

"Where is she?"

Ruffledwing objected then, having been silent during the ordeal. Molefoot turned to him and the other tom began ranting. "You can't seriously be considering going? She's a lunatic! She's crazy! She's going to kill you!"

Molefoot's jaw set in irritation, and Mayfly gently pushed at him. She probably couldn't hunt to save her life. The reminder was clear: please hurry.

"I'm going. If nothing just to check it out. And I'm going to be fine, she has no experience on me and she needs help."

Ruffledwing's jaws parted, a look of disbelief shining in his eyes. Molefoot cut him off, "Don't tell anyone, okay? I promise I'll explain everything when I get back, I promise," he said, and let Mayfly walk past him. Ruffledwing bristled but didn't attack, still looking shocked at his friend's behavior.

"Lead the way," he said to the tabby, and she nodded, looking relieved and much more confident now that she didn't have two trained warriors glaring down at her. She took off, bumbling through the undergrowth again, and Molefoot turned to Ruffledwing one last time.

"I'm coming back soon. I'll give you news then, okay?"

He pretended not to be bothered by the look of heartbroken outrage on his best friend's face when he turned and ran after Mayfly.


	14. Chapter Ten

Molefoot was surprised at how difficult it was to keep up with Mayfly after they broke free of the woods. The tabby had been floundering miserably amongst the undergrowth, but the second the terrain changed to rocky and uneven she seemed to grow new legs.

Molefoot, on the other paw, could barely keep his balance. His paw pads were already cut and bleeding and he'd fallen three times since they'd started their trek up the mountain, and he was regretting his life's decisions internally, too out-of-breath to voice his complaints. His ribs felt too sore to give him the thinning air he needed. Mayfly chatted with him, surprisingly vocal and friendly after how hostile he had been to her. He still didn't like her much, and if she wasn't connected to Frost he might have killed her by now…

"I tried to give her some herbs, but it's not working," she fretted, misjudging a jump and almost falling short. She pulled herself up and kept going, leaving the forest-dwelling warrior to attempt to scramble up the stone. Molefoot reached the top and almost despaired, seeing the tabby already moving on.

"You know herbs?" he asked, sounding somewhat surprised. She looked back at him, eyes glittering in the fading light.

"Mmmhm. My mother's twolegs had a garden with them, she knew all about herbs. It's useful knowledge- don't know know how to use them, too?" she asked, and his fur flushed uncomfortably.

After a few moments of silence she turned to him, eyes owlish. She was panting slightly, and he felt a small thrill of pleasure at knowing he wasn't the only one affected by the hike.

"You don't? I thought that wild cats would, since you all have to fight so hard to survive out here…" He hesitated. "I know some herbs," he defended himself, and her eyes glimmered with amusement. "Well, we have a medicine cat to take care of us, so we don't need to know herbs," he added hastily, and her head tilted curiously. Mayfly didn't speak for a moment, taking the time to climb up a bit further.

There were some flat clearings, which surprised Molefoot. "Did Frost make her camp somewhere on one of these?" he mused aloud, and Mayfly turned to him, looking confused.

"Camp…? Oh! You mean the place she lives, right?"

He nodded impatiently and she dipped her head, not seeming to notice his irritability.

"You could say that, I guess. But it's in the woods more, toward the top where it's more level. We're almost there," she added when his eyes darkened.

Molefoot grumbled to himself, noticing that the sun had just vacated the horizon. It felt like it had taken days just to be "almost there"… Ruffledwing would be worried. As would the rest of his Clan. He was struck with guilt for not thinking of them sooner, and fought down the panic rising in his throat at the thought of making up an excuse for why he'd been out all day. He started to regret following Mayfly- this could just as easily be a trap over anything. Just as he was about to mention his going back to the tabby, she disappeared from in front of him.

Instant confusion and panic lit like a fire in his chest.

Had she left him there in a strange territory to die, like he'd feared? His thoughts raced, and he barely noticed that he was starting to feel light-headed, his breath puffing out in front of his muzzle in rapidly increasing increments. His legs felt like they couldn't support him- he could feel his heart beating frantically in his paw pads.

Mayfly's voice broke him out, leaving him feeling weak and drained. Her fur was soft against his, warmth spiking through him again. "Whoa now, are you okay?" she asked, sounding surprisingly calm and he had to think that it was silly that he thought she'd have been acting like this, too. He nodded dumbly, allowing her to lead him into the darkened bushes he swore he hadn't seen before.

"I'll get you something to calm you down, and then we can go see Frost. Sound good?" she asked, and he nodded again, feeling like his head was only loosely connected to his neck. He nearly protested when the tabby drew away from him, disappearing into what looked like a cracked opening in one of the huge stones surrounding him.

Within seconds she was back, pressing leaves against his paws. He obediently lapped them up, faintly recognizing the taste and smell of thyme from when Mistberry had given it to his mother after she'd had Nettlekit. He didn't taste it, or he tried not to- it tasted like frost-covered grass and wasn't bitter, thankfully. He swallowed, hearing Mayfly gently murmuring instructions on how to breathe and subconsciously following along, cold air filling his lungs as he took deep, deprived breaths. He almost laughed aloud- he'd had to be instructed on how to breathe, something he'd been doing since he was a kit!

When he was sufficiently calmed, he started to notice his surroundings.

He was in a large clearing that looked like it was encircled with rock, like a little hollow had been dug out of the side of the mountain just for Frost and her 'Clan'. The rock Mayfly had disappeared into a moment before was actually two slab-like formations of rock resting atop each other, leaving a dark opening and (presumably) a space within.

Dying strands of ivy made a sort of curtain over the yawning crevice, and he glanced upwards, noticing a similar formation above the den. It looked cold and lonely, so high up…

The rest of the clearing held sparse clumps of bushes and high grass… Molefoot didn't see Frost anywhere, nor Aspen, and faint worry resonated in his empty-feeling chest. He'd forgotten to ask what, exactly, Frost needed help with… Because wouldn't Aspen take care of her, as he reportedly always had?

Mayfly saw his expression and nudged him to his paws, taking the lead as she climbed up onto the tallest of the rock slabs, where the upper den(?) was. He followed her more slowly, thankful for her patience as his paws tried to cooperate and keep up with his mind.

When he finally reached her, Mayfly stepped out of the way, motioning for him to pad ahead, into the darkened space. Molefoot did as instructed, letting his eyes adjust to the blackness.

Almost immediately his gaze sought out the big gray she-cat, curled loosely in a makeshift nest of feathers and bracken. Her fur looked unkempt, and her jaws were parted slightly, faint clouds of mist rising from her muzzle the only indication she was breathing. Her tail was limp, stretched out of the nest and resting on the cold stone floor of the den.

Molefoot instantly turned to Mayfly as the tabby padded in, pressing her nose gently to Frost's chest, as though to check she were really still alive.

"She's asleep again," she murmured, looking up at Molefoot. "I found her in a snow drift further up the mountain, and she told me to bring her here. She caught a fever… She's been fading in and out for days now."

Molefoot blinked in surprise. So there had been an accident... "Did you see anyone with her? A gray tabby with a lot of scars?" he asked, and Mayfly shook her head. A pang of loss echoed faintly in his chest- Aspen had been a good, decent cat, from what he'd heard. So different from how he expected loners to be...

The brown warrior slowly approached the once-proud loner, his eyes instinctively scanning for injuries. The only troubling thing he saw was the faint outline of Frost's ribs, visible even through her thick fur.

"When was she last awake?" he heard himself asking, and Mayfly looked down.

"Two days ago, to my knowledge. That was when she said your name, and I thought I had to find you. So I went to talk to one of the kittypets around here, and they told me about the Clans, so…" She shrugged, as though to say 'and here we are'. Molefoot nodded absently, not deeming the information important enough to warrant a response.

"And when was the last time she ate?"

Mayfly looked sheepish at this. "She's only eaten herbs and some lizards I caught," she murmured, and she shrank at the sharp look the warrior sent her.

"You don't know how to hunt?" he asked, agitation increasing, and she shook her head.

"Not well." The question burning on the tip of his tongue escaped in a strained, wrathful hiss, "Then why are you so well-off and fat-looking?"

Her eyes filled with shame. "I was able to live off some crowfood I found on the thunderpath… I tried to get Frost to take some, but she wouldn't," she murmured, and disgust flared in Molefoot's belly.

"I'm going out to hunt," he spat, whirling to leap out of the den, anger replacing his exhaustion. He heard Mayfly yelp something after him, but ignored her. He wouldn't let Frost die over some idiotic mistake like this, even if she was an idiot herself. He wouldn't wish for any cat to starve.

At least, he hoped not.


	15. Chapter Eleven

He'd forgotten that he, at one point, claimed that no cat could hunt on the mountain. It may not even have been him, but the recollection of the statement drove icy spikes of resentment through his heart.

Molefoot spat in anger as a squirrel escaped, his claws aching and bleeding from scraping against the stone. He probably should have thought this through- he shouldn't have even been there in the first place! Frost wasn't his Clanmate or family or anything, why did he have to help her?

_Because you admire her_, his thoughts reasoned, and he snorted at himself, setting out to hopefully catch something else.

He'd already caught a tiny mouse, probably ill, but he knew that it wouldn't even quell the big gray loner's hunger a bit. So he'd eaten it himself, swiping his tongue over his muzzle when he was done and leaving the bones for one of the massive birds he'd seen circling the mountain earlier in the day.

He tried to ignore the fact that he was essentially betraying his Clan as he caught scent of a rabbit, being careful and hating the slant under his paws as he walked.

How Frost could ever expect to live there was beyond him.

Molefoot padded back into Frost's camp, the rabbit he'd so carefully stalked hanging limply from his jaws like a hard-won trophy. It had taken him a few moments to find the camp again, especially in the moonless dark. He had feared he'd fall off the mountain- then he'd be of no help to anyone.

He dragged his prize up the stones, hissing softly as his torn claws protested but too harried to really care. Real worry had set in for the few hours he'd been away, remembering Frost's condition. She hadn't seemed so bad when he was there with her, but remembering...

She'd looked moments away from death.

He hoped that his rabbit would satisfy her, though he knew it was foolish to hope she'd hop to her paws and scold him for not warning her of his visit beforehand...

Molefoot announced his presence with a meow at the entrance to Frost's den, and Mayfly hurried out, looking so relieved to see him. "You came back!" she breathed, and he didn't miss the wistful tone in her voice. He briefly wondered on it but shook it off, instead basking in pride as her eyes widened upon spotting the rabbit. "H-how'd you catch that? It's huge!" she exclaimed, and he shook his head, not willing to drop his prey to explain that he'd only been trained to catch prey from the moment he was born.

She gawked for a moment before letting him by, padding after him into the den. Frost had shifted positions a bit, and his heart leaped at the thought that she might be awake.

Mayfly buzzed around him, and he could almost feel her excitement bouncing off the stone walls of the little cave... He finally set down his rabbit, flexing his jaw and craning his neck to get rid of the stiffness there.

Mayfly stepped forward, curiously sniffing the prey, and he almost growled at her in annoyance. She pulled away slightly, but he didn't miss the irritation in her eyes.

"She's not going to be able to eat all this," she mewed, and he bristled. "Er, well, eating it all won't help her. In fact, it'll only hurt her..."

"What do you mean?! She's starving- food can only help her!" he growled, and Mayfly shrank away slightly. "J-just listen t-to me, okay?!" she hissed, and he was startled slightly by the aggression in her tone. Her tail was bushed out and curled at her side, her ears flattened.

While he wanted nothing more than to put the tabby in her place, he backed down. For Frost's sake. She did seem to have... The most basic knowledge of medicine. But he still didn't understand how food could possibly hurt a starving cat.

"I've seen it happen before to um, to a friend of mine. He went out, starving, and got a bunch of food from twolegs and then he got really sick. He tried to g-get away from me, but he died before he could get too far," she went on, and Molefoot frowned in confusion.

"If you fill up your belly too much after not eating for a long while, then you can really hurt yourself," she tried to explain further. The warrior still frowned, feeling like he understood but that he... didn't really.

She sighed and shook her head. "Nevermind. But we can save this rabbit for her to eat for the next few days, I think, as long as we keep it out of the sun..." She dragged the rabbit towards her despite Molefoot's glare of protest, taking a deep breath as she bit down on one of the creature's hind legs. She tore it away with some difficulty, her nose wrinkling as blood dribbled from her mouth and down her chin.

She put the item down to say, "Help me rip this into smaller chunks. We need to monitor what she eats to keep her safe." The brown tom just sighed, again not understanding but following her instructions anyway. She seemed to know what she was doing, so he supposed he should trust her. She hadn't done anything to hurt him either, though she was a bit dense...

He dutifully tore the rabbit into small chunks while Mayfly finished with the leg she'd started on, again wincing when she saw the rusty red on her dainty paws. She took one piece of rabbit in her jaws, and Molefoot saw her try to avoid swallowing it. Her mouth must have been watering around it- she probably hadn't had a decent meal aside from crowfood in moons.

She approached Frost, gently nuzzling the bigger cat's shoulder in an attempt at waking her. Molefoot watched from the corner of his eye, holding his breath as he waited.

Frost woke after several minutes of prompting, her eyes sunken and dull-looking. She gazed blankly at Mayfly, who nudged the small piece of rabbit towards her jaws. The gray she-cat didn't seem interested, her glazed eyes never moving from the tabby's face.

"Maybe she wants some water?"Molefoot suggested after Mayfly pressed the prey to the she-cat's lips again, her movements almost desperate now. The tabby turned to him, blinking, then nodded. "Okay, okay, um, hang on..."

She disappeared out of the den, presumably headed to her own to gather water. Molefoot took the she-cat's absence as a chance to investigate Frost more thoroughly, moving to stand in front of her.

Her eyes were half-closed, as though she were asleep. He cautiously waved his tail before her face, and, upon receiving no reaction, leaned close enough to feel her labored breathing against his muzzle.

Molefoot remembered (again from Mistberry, he really had to thank her later) to check for her temperature, tasting sickness on her breath. He moved away from her face to press his nose against one of her huge paws, nearly flinching away from the heat there. She definitely had a fever, had Mayfly given her herbs for that?

He jumped when Mayfly reentered the den, scrambling to a sitting position. He felt the tabby give him an odd look and tried to keep his expression stoic.

"I was just checking on her," he said, proud of himself when his voice didn't waver. Mayfly narrowed her eyes slightly in doubt, but moved on without complaint.

She held a water-soaked ball of moss in her mouth, her chest and throat wet from where she'd carried it up.

She motioned to Molefoot to help her pry Frost's jaws open, and leaned over to squeeze some of the liquid into the she-cat's mouth. Molefoot couldn't help but feel worried that Frost didn't struggle against it; he knew he would have at least heaved a sigh of protest against having water (or anything, really) force-fed to him.

After a second Mayfly drew away, gently nudging Frost's head back into a comfortable position. Her chin was soaked from their efforts, a smudge of blood on the gray from where Mayfly had attempted to feed her. Her eyes were still half-lidded, and the lack of response very nearly scared Molefoot.

Mayfly sighed. "We can't do anything for her right now, we have to wait until she's really awake. That might not be until the fever breaks so um... I need herbs..." She sounded uncertain though, and Molefoot rolled his eyes.

"I'll stay here until she's better and keep an eye on her, so go gather some herbs or whatever you need to do," he gruffed, and Mayfly frowned, her tail waving uncertainly. He almost hissed at her to just leave, that they didn't have time to waste, but she didn't give him long enough to do so.

"If you say so... The um... The brush on the one side of the clearing is a lot warmer and more comfortable than these caves so if you want to sleep there you can. Just remember to wake up to check on her..." He nodded impatiently, and Mayfly sighed again, turning to leave.

Molefoot spared one last glance at Frost before following her, heading to one of the larger clumps of bracken by a large crack in the stone walls. He wouldn't be much help if he was so exhausted, and he could only hope that StarClan would look after a cat even if she wasn't one of their own.

He scratched some of the bracken fronds near him together into a makeshift nest, wishing he had some of the spare moss Ivypaw and Mudpaw always complained about getting back at his own camp, and settled down for his nap.


End file.
